/    "    td\ 


Mysterious  Mr.  Sabin 


"  The  girl's  face  shone  like  a  piece  of  delicate  statuary  "  (page  37). 

[Frontispiece. 


Mysterious  Mr.  Sabin 


By 

E.    Phillips  Oppenheim 

Author  of 
A  Prince  of  Sinners,"  "Anna  the  Adventuress,"  etc. 


Illustrated  by  J.  Ambrose  Walton 


Boston 
Little,  Brown,  and  Company 


Copyright, 
BY  LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY. 


All  rights  rutr-vtd 


TH«    UNIVERSITY    PRESS,    CAMBRIDGE,    O.  S.  A. 


CONTENTS 


CHAP.  PAGE 

I.  A  SUPPER   PARTY   AT  THE   MILAN       .               .                .7 

II.  A   DRAMA   OF  THE   PAVEMENT       ...                13 

III.  THE   WARNING   OF   FELIX       .                .                .                .22 

IV.  AT   THE   RUSSIAN   AMBASSADOR'S ...                30 

V.  THE   DILEMMA   OF  WOLFENDEN         .                .                •        39 

VI.  A   COMPACT   OF  THREE     ....                46 

VII.  WHO   IS   MR.   SABIN  ?                  ....        52 

VIII.  A   MEETING   IN   BOND  STREET                                      .                6l 

IX.  THE   SHADOWS  THAT  GO   BEFORE      .                .                .69 

X.  THE   SECRETARY  .....                76 

XI.  THE   FRUIT  THAT   IS  OF   GOLD           .                .                .83 

xii.  WOLFENDEN'S  LUCK       ....           92 

XIII.  A   GREAT  WORK            .....      104 

XIV.  THE  TEMPTING  OF   MR.    BLATHERWICK                  .              Ill 

XV.  THE  COMING  AND  GOING  OF  MR.  FRANKLIN  WILMOT      Il8 

XVI.  GENIUS   OR   MADNESS  ?      .                .                .                .              126 

XVII.  THE  SCHEMING   OF   GIANTS  ....      132 

XVIII.  "  HE   HAS  GONE  TO   THE   EMPEROR  !  "   .                .              141 

xix.  WOLFENDEN'S  LOVE-MAKING           .           .           .    146 

XX.  FROM   A   DIM   WORLD         ....             155 

xxi.  HARCUTT'S  INSPIRATION       ....    167 

XXII.  FROM   THE   BEGINNING     ....              177 

5 


6  CONTENTS 

CHAP.  PACK 

XXIII.  MR.  SABIN   EXPLAINS          ....  186 

XXIV.  THE   WAY  OF  THE  WOMAN      .                .               .  193 
XXV.  A   HANDFUL   OF  ASHES       ....  199 

XXVI.  MR.    BLATHERWICK   AS  ST.   ANTHONY                 .  207 

XXVII.  BY  CHANCE  OR  DESIGN     ....  213 

XXVIII.  A  MIDNIGHT  VISITOR  ....  22O 

XXIX.  "  IT  WAS   MR.   SABIN  "                         .                .                .  227 

XXX.  THE   GATHERING  OF  THE   WAR-STORM              .  234 

XXXI.  "I   MAKE  NO  PROMISE"    ....  242 

XXXII.  THE   SECRET   OF   MR.   SABIN'S   NIECE  .                .  253 

XXXIII.  MR.   SABIN   TRIUMPHS          ....  263 

XXXIV.  BLANCHE   MERTON'S   LITTLE   PLOT       .                .  269 

XXXV.  A   LITTLE  GAME   OF   CARDS              .               .               .  276 

XXXVI.  THE   MODERN    RICHELIEU         .                .               .  287 

XXXVII.  FOR  A  GREAT  STAKE  .  .  .  .295 

XXXVIII.  THE   MEN   WHO  SAVED   ENGLAND         .               .  304 

XXXIX.  THE   HEART   OF  THE   PRINCESS     .  .  -314 

XL.  THE  WAY  TO  PAU         .  .  .  .319 

XLI.  MR.  AND  MRS.  WATSON  OF  NEW  YORK  .               .  327 

XLII.  A  WEAK   CONSPIRATOR               .               .               .  333 

XLIII.  THE  COMING  OF  THE  "KAISER  WILHELM"         .  34! 

XLIV.  THE  GERMANS  ARE  ANNOYED               .               .  346 

XLV.  MR.   SABIN   IN    DANGER       ....  353 

XLVI.  MR.   WATSON    IS  ASTONISHED  .                .               .  358 

XLVII.  A  CHARMED   LIFE                  ....  363 

XLVIII.  THE    DOOMSCHEN          ....  368 

XLIX.  MR.  SABIN   IS  SENTIMENTAL          .               .               .  374 

L.  A   HARBOUR  TRAGEDY.               .               .              .  378 

LI.  THE   PERSISTENCE   OF    FELIX         .                .                .  382 

LII.  MRS.  JAMES  B.   PETERSON,  OF  LENOX               .  388 


MYSTERIOUS    MR.    SABIN 

CHAPTER   I 

A   SUPPER    PARTY   AT   THE    "MILAN." 

"  To  all  such  meetings  as  these !  "  cried  Densham,  lifting 
his  champagne  glass  from  under  the  soft  halo  of  the  rose- 
shaded  electric  lights.  "  Let  us  drink  to  them,  Wolfenden 
—Mr.  Felix  ! " 

"  To  all  such  meetings  ! "  echoed  his  vis-a-vis,  also  finger- 
ing the  delicate  stem  of  his  glass.  "  An  excellent  toast ! " 

"  To  all  such  meetings  as  these ! "  murmured  the  third 
man,  who  made  up  the  little  party.  "A  capital  toast 
indeed  ! " 

They  sat  at  a  little  round  table  in  the  brilliantly-lit  supper- 
room  of  one  of  London's  most  fashionable  restaurants. 
Around  them  were  the  usual  throng  of  well  dressed  men,  of 
women  with  bare  shoulders  and  flashing  diamonds,  of  dark- 
visaged  waiters,  deft,  silent,  swift-footed.  The  pleasant 
hum  of  conversation,  louder  and  more  unrestrained  as  the 
hour  grew  towards  midnight,  was  varied  by  the  popping  of 
corks  and  many  little  trills  of  feminine  laughter.  Of  dis- 
cordant sounds  there  were  none.  The  waiters'  feet  fell 
noiselessly  upon  the  thick  carpet,  the  clatter  of  plates  was 
a  thing  unheard  of.  From  the  balcony  outside  came  the 
low,  sweet  music  of  a  German  orchestra  played  by  master 
hands. 

t 


8  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

As  usual  the  place  was  filled.  Several  late-comers,  who 
had  neglected  to  order  their  table  beforehand,  had  already, 
after  a  disconsolate  tour  of  the  room,  been  led  to  one 
of  the  smaller  apartments,  or  had  driven  off  again  to 
where  the  lights  from  the  larger  but  less  smart  Altone 
flashed  out  upon  the  smooth,  dark  waters  of  the  Thames. 
Only  one  table  was  as  yet  unoccupied,  and  that  was  within 
a  yard  or  two  of  the  three  young  men  who  were  celebrating 
a  chance  meeting  in  Pall  Mall  so  pleasantly.  It  was  laid 
for  two  only,  and  a  magnificent  bunch  of  white  roses  had,  a 
few  minutes  before,  been  brought  in  and  laid  in  front  of  one 
of  the  places  by  the  director  of  the  rooms  himself.  A  man's 
small  visiting-card  was  leaning  against  a  wineglass.  The 
table  was  evidently  reserved  by  some  one  of  importance,  for 
several  late-comers  had  pointed  to  it,  only  to  be  met  by  a 
decided  shake  of  the  head  on  the  part  of  the  waiter  to 
whom  they  had  appealed.  As  time  went  on,  this  empty 
table  became  the  object  of  some  speculation  to  the  three 
young  men. 

"  Our  neighbours,"  remarked  Wolfenden,  "  are  running  it 
pretty  fine.  Can  you  see  whose  name  is  upon  the  card, 
Densham  ?  " 

The  man  addressed  raised  an  eyeglass  to  his  left  eye  and 
leaned  forward.  Then  he  shook  his  head,  he  was  a  little 
too  far  away. 

"  No  !  It  is  a  short  name.  Seems  to  begin  with  S. 
Probably  a  son  of  Israel ! " 

"His  taste  in  flowers  is  at  any  rate  irreproachable," 
Wolfenden  remarked.  "  I  wish  they  would  come.  I  am  in 
a  genial  mood,  and  I  do  not  like  to  think  of  any  one  having 
to  hurry  over  such  an  excellent  supper." 

"  The  lady,"  Densham  suggested,  "is  probably  theatrical, 
and  has  to  dress  after  the  show.  Half-past  twelve  is  a 
barbarous  hour  to  turn  us  out  I  wonder " 

"  Sh-sh ! " 


A  SUPPER  PARTY  AT  THE  "MILAN"  9 

The  slight  exclamation  and  a  meaning  frown  from  Wolf- 
enden  checked  his  speech.  He  broke  off  in  the  middle  of 
his  sentence,  and  looked  round.  There  was  the  soft  swish 
of  silk  passing  his  chair,  and  the  faint  suggestion  of  a 
delicate  and  perfectly  strange  perfume.  At  last  the  table 
was  being  taken  possession  of.  A  girl,  in  a  wonderful  white 
dress,  was  standing  there,  leaning  over  to  admire  the  great 
bunch  of  creamy-white  blossoms,  whilst  a  waiter  respectfully 
held  a  chair  for  her.  A  few  steps  behind  came  her  com- 
panion, an  elderly  man  who  walked  with  a  slight  limp, 
leaning  heavily  upon  a  stick.  She  turned  to  him  and  made 
some  remark  in  French,  pointing  to  the  flowers.  He  smiled, 
and  passing  her,  stood  for  a  moment  leaning  slightly  upon 
the  back  of  his  chair,  waiting,  with  a  courtesy  which  was 
obviously  instinctive,  until  she  should  have  seated  herself. 
During  the  few  seconds  which  elapsed  before  they  were 
settled  in  their  places  he  glanced  around  the  room  with  a 
smile,  slightly  cynical,  but  still  good-natured,  parting  his 
thin,  well-shaped  lips.  Wolfenden  and  Densham,  who  were 
looking  at  him  with  frank  curiosity,  he  glanced  at  carelessly. 
The  third  young  man  of  the  party,  Felix,  was  bending  low 
over  his  plate,  and  his  face  was  hidden. 

The  buzz  of  conversation  in  their  immediate  vicinity  had 
been  temporarily  suspended.  Every  one  who  had  seen 
them  enter  had  been  interested  in  these  late-comers,  and 
many  curious  eyes  had  followed  them  to  their  seats.  Briefly, 
the  girl  was  beautiful  and  the  man  distinguished.  When 
they  had  taken  their  places,  however,  the  hum  of  conversa- 
tion recommenced.  Densham  and  Wolfenden  leaned  over 
to  one  another,  and  their  questions  were  almost  simultaneous. 

"Who  are  they?" 

"  Who  is  she  ?  " 

Alas !  neither  of  them  knew ;  neither  of  them  had  the 
least  idea.  Felix,  Wolfenden's  guest,  it  seemed  useless  to 
ask.  He  had  only  just  arrived  in  England,  and  he  was  a 


10  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

complete  stranger  to  London.  Besides,  he  did  not  seem  to 
be  interested.  He  was  proceeding  calmly  with  his  supper, 
with  his  back  directly  turned  upon  the  new-comers.  Beyond 
one  rapid,  upward  glance  at  their  entrance  he  seemed 
almost  to  have  avoided  looking  at  them.  Wolfenden 
thought  of  this  afterwards. 

"  I  see  Harcutt  in  the  corner,"  he  said.  "  He  will  know 
who  they  are  for  certain.  I  shall  go  and  ask  him." 

He  crossed  the  room  and  chatted  for  a  few  minutes  with 
a  noisy  little  party  in  an  adjacent  recess.  Presently  he  put 
his  question.  Alas !  not  one  of  them  knew  !  Harcutt,  a 
journalist  of  some  note  and  a  man  who  prided  himself 
upon  knowing  absolutely  everybody,  was  as  helpless  as  the 
rest.  To  his  humiliation  he  was  obliged  to  confess  it. 

"  I  never  saw  either  of  them  before  in  my  life,"  he  said. 
"  I  cannot  imagine  who  they  can  be.  They  are  certainly 
foreigners." 

"Very  likely,"  Wolfenden  agreed  quietly.  "In  fact,  I 
never  doubted  it.  An  English  girl  of  that  age — she  is  very 
young  by  the  bye — would  never  be  so  perfectly  turned  out." 

"  What  a  very  horrid  thing  to  say,  Lord  Wolfenden,"  ex- 
claimed the  woman  on  whose  chair  his  hand  was  resting. 
"Don't  you  know  that  dressing  is  altogether  a  matter  of 
one's  maid  ?  You  may  rely  upon  it  that  that  girl  has  found 
a  treasure  ! " 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  Wolfenden  said,  smiling.  "  Yottng 
English  girls  always  seem  to  me  to  look  so  dishevelled  in 
evening  dress.  Now  this  girl  is  dressed  with  the  art  of  a 
Frenchwoman  of  mature  years,  and  yet  with  the  simplicity 
of  a  child." 

The  woman  laid  down  her  lorgnettes  and  shrugged  her 
shoulders. 

"  I  agree  with  you,"  she  said,  "  that  she  is  probably  not 
English.  If  she  were  she  would  not  wear  such  diamonds 
at  her  age." 


A  SUPPER  PARTY  AT  THE  "MILAN"  n 

"By  the  bye,"  Harcutt  remarked  with  sudden  cheerfulness, 
"we  shall  be  able  to  find  out  who  the  man  is  when  we 
leave.  The  table  was  reserved,  so  the  name  will  be  on  the 
list  at  the  door." 

His  friends  rose  to  leave  and  Harcutt,  making  his  adieux, 
crossed  the  room  with  Wolfenden. 

"We  may  as  well  have  our  coffee  together,"  he  said. 
"I  ordered  Turkish  and  I've  been  waiting  for  it  ten 
minutes.  We  got  here  early.  Hullo  !  where's  your  other 
guest  ?  " 

Densham  was  sitting  alone.  Wolfenden  looked  at  him 
inquiringly. 

"  Your  friend  Felix  has  gone,"  he  announced.  "  Sud- 
denly remembered  an  engagement  with  his  chief,  and 
begged  you  to  excuse  him.  Said  he'd  look  you  up  to- 
morrow." 

"  Well,  he's  an  odd  fellow,"  Wolfenden  remarked,  motion- 
ing Harcutt  to  the  vacant  place.  "  His  looks  certainly  belie 
his  name." 

"  He's  not  exactly  a  cheerful  companion  for  a  supper 
party,"  Densham  admitted,  "  but  I  like  his  face.  How  did 
you  come  across  him,  Wolfenden,  and  where  does  he  hail 
from?" 

"  He's  a  junior  attache  at  the  Russian  Embassy,"  Wolf- 
enden said,  stirring  his  coffee.  "Only  just  been  ap- 
pointed. Charlie  Meynell  gave  him  a  line  of  introduction 
to  me ;  said  he  was  a  decent  sort,  but  mopish !  I  looked 
him  up  last  week,  met  him  in  Pall  Mall  just  as  you  came 
along,  and  asked  you  both  to  supper.  What  liqueurs, 
Harcutt?" 

The  conversation  drifted  into  ordinary  channels  and 
flowed  on  steadily.  At  the  same  time  it  was  maintained 
with  a  certain  amount  of  difficulty.  The  advent  of  these  two 
people  at  the  next  table  had  produced  an  extraordinary  effect 
upon  the  three  men.  Harcutt  was  perhaps  the  least 


12  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

affected.  He  was  a  young  man  of  fortune  and  natural 
gifts,  who  had  embraced  journalism  as  a  career,  and  was 
really  in  love  with  his  profession.  Partly  on  account  of  his 
social  position,  which  was  unquestioned,  and  partly  because 
his  tastes  tended  in  that  direction,  he  had  become  the 
recognised  scribe  and  chronicle  of  smart  society.  His  pen 
was  easy  and  fluent.  He  was  an  inimitable  maker  of  short 
paragraphs.  He  prided  himself  upon  knowing  everybody 
and  all  about  them.  He  could  have  told  how  much  a  year 
Densham,  a  rising  young  portrait  painter,  was  making  from 
his  profession,  and  exactly  what  Wolfenden's  allowance 
from  his  father  was.  A  strange  face  was  an  annoyance  to 
him ;  two,  a  humiliation.  He  had  been  piqued  that  he 
could  not  answer  the  eager  questions  of  his  own  party  as  to 
these  two  people,  and  subsequently  Wolfenden's  inquiries. 
The  thought  that  very  soon  at  any  rate  their  name  would 
be  known  to  him  was,  in  a  sense,  a  consolation.  The  rest 
would  be  easy.  Until  he  knew  all  about  them  he  meant  to 
conceal  so  far  as  possible  his  own  interest. 


CHAPTER  II 

A  DRAMA   OF  THE   PAVEMENT 

THE  pitch  of  conversation  had  risen  higher,  still  mingled 
with  the  intermittent  popping  of  corks  and  the  striking  of 
matches.  Blue  wreaths  of  cigarette  smoke  were  curling 
upwards— a  delicate  feeling  of  "abandon"  was  making 
itself  felt  amongst  the  roomful  of  people.  The  music  grew 
softer  as  the  babel  of  talk  grew  in  volume.  The  whole 
environment  became  tinged  with  a  faint  but  genial  voluptu- 
ousness. Densham  was  laughing  over  the  foibles  of  some 
mutual  acquaintance ;  Wolfenden  leaned  back  in  his  chair, 
smoking  a  cigarette  and  sipping  his  Turkish  coffee.  His 
eyes  scarcely  left  for  a  moment  the  girl  who  sat  only  a  few 
yards  away  from  him,  trifling  with  a  certain  dainty  indif- 
ference with  the  little  dishes,  which  one  after  the  other  had 
been  placed  before  her  and  removed.  He  had  taken  pains 
to  withdraw  himself  from  the  discussion  in  which  his  friends 
were  interested.  He  wanted  to  be  quite  free  to  watch  her. 
To  him  she  was  certainly  the  most  wonderful  creature  he 
had  ever  seen.  In  every  one  of  her  most  trifling  actions 
she  seemed  possessed  of  an  original  and  curious  grace, 
even  the  way  she  held  her  silver  fork,  toyed  with  her 
serviette,  raised  her  glass  to  her  lips  and  set  it  down  again 
— all  these  little  things  she  seemed  to  him  to  accomplish 
with  a  peculiar  and  wonderful  daintiness.  Of  conversation 
between  her  companion  and  herself  there  was  evidently 
very  little,  nor  did  she  appear  to  expect  it.  He  was  enjoy- 

13 


I4  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

ing  his  supper  with  the  moderation  and  minute  care  for 
trifles  which  denote  the  epicure,  and  he  only  spoke  to  her 
between  the  courses.  She,  on  the  other  hand,  appeared  to 
be  eating  scarcely  anything.  At  last,  however,  the  waiter 
set  before  her  a  dish  in  which  she  was  evidently  interested. 
Wolfenden  recognised  the  pink  frilled  paper  and  smiled. 
She  was  human  enough  then  to  care  for  ices.  She  bent 
over  it  and  shrugged  her  shoulders — turning  to  the  waiter 
who  was  hovering  near,  she  asked  a  question.  He  bowed 
and  removed  the  plate.  In  a  moment  or  two  he  reappeared 
with  another.  This  time  the  paper  and  its  contents  were 
brown.  She  smiled  as  she  helped  herself — such  a  smile 
that  Wolfenden  wondered  that  the  waiter  did  not  lose  his 
head,  and  hand  her  pepper  and  salt  instead  of  gravely 
filling  her  glass.  She  took  up  her  spoon  and  deliberately 
tasted  the  contents  of  her  plate.  Then  she  looked  across 
the  table,  and  spoke  the  first  words  in  English  which  he 
had  heard  from  her  lips — 

"  Coffee  ice.     So  much  nicer  than  strawberry  ! " 

The  man  nodded  back. 

"  Ices  after  supper  are  an  abomination,"  he  said.  "  They 
spoil  the  flavour  of  your  wine,  and  many  other  things.  But 
after  all,  I  suppose  it  is  waste  of  time  to  tell  you  so ! 
A  woman  never  understands  how  to  eat  until  she  is 
fifty." 

She  laughed,  and  deliberately  finished  the  ice.  Just  as 
she  laid  down  the  spoon,  she  raised  her  eyes  quietly  and 
encountered  Wolfenden's.  He  looked  away  at  once  with 
an  indifference  which  he  felt  to  be  badly  assumed.  Did 
she  know,  he  wondered,  that  he  had  been  watching  her 
like  an  owl  all  the  time  ?  He  felt  hot  and  uncomfortable — 
a  veritable  schoolboy  at  the  thought.  He  plunged  into  the 
conversation  between  Harcutt  and  Densham — a  conversa- 
tion which  they  had  been  sustaining  with  an  effort.  They 
too  were  still  as  interested  in  their  neighbours,  although 


A  DRAMA  OF  THE  PAVEMENT  15 

their  positions  at  the  table  made  it  difficult  for  either  to 
observe  them  closely. 

When  three  men  are  each  thinking  intently  of  something 
else,  it  is  not  easy  to  maintain  an  intelligent  discussion. 
Wolfenden,  to  create  a  diversion,  called  for  the  bill.  When 
he  had  paid  it,  and  they  were  ready  to  depart,  Densham 
looked  up  with  a  little  burst  of  candour — 

"  She's  wonderful ! "  he  exclaimed  softly. 

"  Marvellous ! "  Wolfenden  echoed. 

"  I  wonder  who  on  earth  they  can  possibly  be,"  Harcutt 
said  almost  peevishly.  Already  he  was  being  robbed  of 
some  part  of  his  contemplated  satisfaction.  It  was  true 
that  he  would  probably  find  the  man's  name  on  the  table- 
list  at  the  door,  but  he  had  a  sort  of  presentiment  that 
the  girl's  personality  would  elude  him.  The  question  of 
relationship  between  the  man  and  the  girl  puzzled  him. 
He  propounded  the  problem  and  they  discussed  it  with 
bated  breath.  There  was  no  likeness  at  all !  Was  there 
any  relationship  ?  It  was  significant  that  although  Harcutt 
was  a  scandalmonger  and  Wolfenden  somewhat  of  a  cynic, 
they  discussed  it  with  the  most  profound  respect.  Relation- 
ship after  all  of  some  sort  there  must  be.  What  was  it  ? 
It  was  Harcutt  who  alone  suggested  what  to  Wolfenden 
seemed  an  abominable  possibility. 

"Scarcely  husband  and  wife,  I  should  think,"  he  said 
thoughtfully,  "  yet  one  never  can  tell ! " 

Involuntarily  they  all  three  glanced  towards  the  man. 
He  was  well  preserved  and  his  little  imperial  and  short  £rey 
moustache  were  trimmed  with  military  precision,  yet  his 
hair  was  almost  white,  and  his  age  could  scarcely  be  less 
than  sixty.  In  his  way  he  was  quite  as  interesting  as  the 
girl.  His  eyes,  underneath  his  thick  brows,  were  dark  and 
clear,  and  his  features  were  strong  and  delicately  shaped. 
His  hands  were  white  and  very  shapely,  the  fingers  were 
rather  long,  and  he  wore  two  singularly  handsome  rings, 


16  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

both  set  with  strange  stones.  By  the  side  of  the  table 
rested  the  stick  upon  which  he  had  been  leaning  during 
his  passage  through  the  room.  It  was  of  smooth,  dark 
wood  polished  like  a  malacca  cane,  and  set  at  the  top  with 
a  curious,  green,  opalescent  stone,  as  large  as  a  sparrow's 
egg.  The  eyes  of  the  three  men  had  each  in  turn  bee^ 
arrested  by  it.  In  the  electric  light  which  fell  softly  upon 
the  upper  part  of  it,  the  stone  seemed  to  burn  and  glow 
with  a  peculiar,  iridescent  radiance.  Evidently  it  was  a 
precious  possession,  for  once  when  a  waiter  had  offered  to 
remove  it  to  a  stand  at  the  other  end  of  the  room,  the 
man  had  stopped  him  sharply  and  drawn  it  a  little  closer 
towards  him. 

Wolfenden  lit  a  fresh  cigarette,  and  gazed  thoughtfully 
into  the  little  cloud  of  blue  smoke. 

"Husband  and  wife,"  he  repeated  slowly.  "What  an 
absurd  idea  !  More  likely  father  and  daughter ! " 

"  How  about  the  roses  ?  "  Harcutt  remarked.  "  A  father 
does  not  as  a  rule  show  such  excellent  taste  in  flowers  ! " 

They  had  finished  supper.  Suddenly  the  girl  stretched 
out  her  left  hand  and  took  a  glove  from  the  table.  Wolfen- 
den smiled  triumphantly. 

"  She  has  no  wedding-ring,"  he  exclaimed  softly. 

Then  Harcutt,  for  the  first  time,  made  a  remark  for 
which  he  was  never  altogether  forgiven — a  remark  which 
both  the  other  men  received  in  chilling  silence. 

"  That  may  or  may  not  be  a  matter  for  congratulation," 
he  said,  twirling  his  moustache.  "  One  never  knows  ! " 

Wolfenden  stood  up,  turning  his  back  upon  Harcutt  and 
pointedly  ignoring  him. 

"  Let  us  go,  Densham,"  he  said.  "  We  are  almost  the 
last." 

As  a  matter  of  fact  his  movement  was  made  at  exactly 
the  right  time.  They  could  scarcely  have  left  the  room  at 
the  same  moment  as  these  two  people,  in  whom  manifestly 


17 

they  had  been  taking  so  great  an  interest.  But  by  the 
time  they  had  sent  for  their  coats  and  hats  from  the  cloak- 
room, and  Harcutt  had  coolly  scrutinised  the  table-list, 
they  found  themselves  all  together  in  a  little  group  at  the 
head  of  the  stairs. 

Wolfenden,  who  was  a  few  steps  in  front,  drew  back  to 
allow  them  to  pass.  The  man,  leaning  upon  his  stick,  laid 
his  hand  upon  the  girl's  sleeve.  Then  he  looked  up  at  the 
man,  and  addressed  Wolfenden  directly. 

"  You  had  better  precede  us,  sir,"  he  said ;  "  my  progress 
is  unfortunately  somewhat  slow." 

Wolfenden  drew  back  courteously. 

"  We  are  in  no  hurry,"  he  said.     "  Please  go  on." 

The  man  thanked  him,  and  with  one  hand  upon  the  girl's 
shoulder  and  with  the  other  on  his  stick  commenced  to 
descend.  The  girl  had  passed  on  without  even  glancing 
towards  them.  She  had  twisted  a  white  lace  mantilla 
around  her  head,  and  her  features  were  scarcely  visible — 
only  as  she  passed,  Wolfenden  received  a  general  impression 
of  rustling  white  silk  and  lace  and  foaming  tulle  as  she 
gathered  her  skirts  together  at  the  head  of  the  stairs.  It 
seemed  to  him,  too,  that  the  somewhat  close  atmosphere  of 
the  vestibule  had  become  faintly  sweet  with  the  delicate 
fragrance  of  the  white  roses  which  hung  by  a  loop  of  satin 
from  her  wrist. 

The  three  men  waited  until  they  had  reached  the  bend 
of  the  stairs  before  they  began  to  descend.  Harcutt  then 
leaned  forward. 

"His  name,"  he  whispered,  "is  disenchanting.  It  is 
Mr.  Sabin  !  Whoever  heard  of  a  Mr.  Sabin  ?  Yet  he 
looks  like  a  personage  !  " 

At  the  doors  there  was  some  delay.  It  was  raining  fast 
and  the  departures  were  a  little  congested.  The  three 
young  men  still  kept  in  the  background.  Densham  affected 
to  be  busy  lighting  a  cigarette,  Wolfenden  was  slowly  draw- 

2 


i8  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

ing  on  his  gloves.  His  place  was  almost  in  a  line  with  the 
girl's.  He  could  see  the  diamonds  flashing  in  her  fair  hair 
through  the  dainty  tracery  of  the  drooping  white  lace,  and 
in  a  moment,  through  some  slight  change  in  her  position, 
he  could  get  a  better  view  of  her  face  than  he  had  been 
able  to  obtain  even  in  the  supper-room.  She  was  beautiful ! 
There  was  no  doubt  about  that !  But  there  were  many 
beautiful  women  in  London,  whom  Wolfenden  scarcely 
pretended  to  admire.  This  girl  had  something  better  even 
than  supreme  beauty.  She  was  anything  but  a  reproduction. 
She  was  a  new  type.  She  had  originality.  Her  hair  was 
dazzlingly  fair ;  her  eyebrows,  delicately  arched,  were  high 
and  distinctly  dark  in  colour.  Her  head  was  perfectly 
shaped — the  features  seemed  to  combine  a  delightful 
piquancy  with  a  somewhat  statuesque  regularity.  Wolfen- 
den, wondering  of  what  she  in  some  manner  reminded  him, 
suddenly  thought  of  some  old  French  miniatures,  which  he 
had  stopped  to  admire  only  a  day  or  two  before,  in  a  little 
curio  shop  near  Bond  Street.  There  was  a  distinct  dash 
of  something  foreign  in  her  features  and  carriage.  It  might 
have  been  French,  or  Austrian — it  was  most  certainly  not 
Anglo-Saxon  ! 

The  crush  became  a  little  less,  they  all  moved  a  step  or 
two  forward — and  Wolfenden,  glancing  carelessly  outside, 
found  his  attention  immediately  arrested.  Just  as  he  had 
been  watching  the  girl,  so  was  a  man,  who  stood  on  the 
pavement  side  by  side  with  the  commissionaire,  watching 
her  companion.  He  was  tall  and  thin  ;  apparently  dressed 
in  evening  clothes,  for  though  his  coat  was  buttoned  up  to 
his  chin,  he  wore  an  opera  hat.  His  hands  were  thrust 
into  the  loose  pockets  of  his  overcoat,  and  his  face  was 
mostly  in  the  shadows.  Once,  however,  he  followed  some 
motion  of  Mr.  Sabin's  and  moved  his  head  a  little  forward. 
Wolfenden  started  and  looked  at  him  fixedly.  Was  it 
fancy,  or  was  there  indeed  something  clenched  in  his  right 


A  DRAMA  OF  THE  PAVEMENT  19 

hand  there,  which  gleamed  like  silver — or  was  it  steel — in 
the  momentary  flash  of  a  passing  carriage-light  ?  Wolfenden 
was  puzzled.  There  was  something,  too,  which  seemed  to 
him  vaguely  familiar  in  the  man's  figure  and  person.  He 
was  certainly  waiting  for  somebody,  and  to  judge  from  his 
expression  his  mission  was  no  pleasant  one.  Wolfenden 
who,  through  the  latter  part  of  the  evening,  had  felt  a 
curious  and  unwonted  sense  of  excitement  stirring  his 
blood,  now  felt  it  go  tingling  through  all  his  veins.  He 
had  some  subtle  prescience  that  he  was  on  the  brink  of  an 
adventure.  He  glanced  hurriedly  at  his  two  companions ; 
neither  of  them  had  noticed  this  fresh  development. 

Just  then  the  commissionaire,  who  knew  Wolfenden  by 
sight,  turned  round  and  saw  him  standing  there.  Stepping 
back  on  to  the  pavement,  he  called  up  the  brougham,  which 
was  waiting  a  little  way  down  the  street. 

"  Your  carriage,  my  lord,"  he  said  to  Wolfenden,  touching 
his  cap. 

Wolfenden,  with  ready  presence  of  mind,  shook  his  head. 

"I  am  waiting  for  a  friend,"  he  said.  "Tell  my  man  to 
pass  on  a  yard  or  two." 

The  man  bowed,  and  the  danger  of  leaving  before  these 
two  people,  in  whom  his  interest  now  was  becoming  posi- 
tively feverish,  was  averted.  As  if  to  enhance  it,  a  singular 
thing  now  happened.  The  interest  suddenly  became 
reciprocal.  At  the  sound  of  Wolfenden's  voice  the  man 
with  the  club  foot  had  distinctly  started.  He  changed  his 
position  and,  leaning  forward,  looked  eagerly  at  him.  His 
eyes  remained  for  a  moment  or  two  fixed  steadily  upon 
him.  There  was  no  doubt  about  the  fact,  singular  in  itself 
though  it  was.  Wolfenden  noticed  it  himself,  so  did  both 
Densham  and  Harcutt.  But  before  any  remark  could  pass 
between  them  a  little  coupe  brougham  had  drawn  up,  and 
the  man  and  the  girl  started  forward. 

Wolfenden  followed  close  behind.      The  feeling  which 


20  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

prompted  him  to  do  so  was  a  curious  one,  but  it  seemed 
to  him  afterwards  that  he  had  even  at  that  time  a  conviction 
that  something  unusual  was  about  to  happen.  The  girl 
stepped  lightly  across  the  carpeted  way  and  entered  the 
carriage.  Her  companion  paused  in  the  doorway  to  hand 
some  silver  to  the  commissionaire,  then  he  too,  leaning 
upon  his  stick,  stepped  across  the  pavement.  His  foot 
was  already  upon  the  carriage  step,  when  suddenly  what 
VVolfenden  had  been  vaguely  anticipating  happened.  A 
dark  figure  sprang  from  out  of  the  shadows  and  seized 
him  by  the  throat ;  something  that  glittered  like  a  streak  of 
silver  in  the  electric  light  flashed  upwards.  The  blow 
would  certainly  have  fallen  but  for  Wolfenden.  He  was 
the  only  person  not  wholly  unprepared  for  something  ol 
the  sort,  and  he  was  consequently  not  paralysed  into 
inaction  as  were  the  others.  He  was  so  near,  too,  that  a 
single  step  forward  enabled  him  to  seize  the  uplifted  arm 
in  a  grasp  of  iron.  The  man  who  had  been  attacked  was 
the  next  to  recover  himself.  Raising  his  stick  he  struck  at 
his  assailant  violently.  The  blow  missed  his  head,  but 
grazed  his  temple  and  fell  upon  his  shoulder.  The  man, 
released  from  Wolfenden's  grasp  by  his  convulsive  start, 
went  staggering  back  into  the  roadway. 

There  was  a  rush  then  to  secure  him,  but  it  was  too 
late.  Wolfenden,  half  expecting  another  attack,  had  not 
moved  from  the  carriage  door,  and  the  commissionaire, 
although  a  powerful  man,  was  not  swift.  Like  a  cat  the 
man  who  had  made  the  attack  sprang  across  the  roadway, 
and  into  the  gardens  which  fringed  the  Embankment.  The 
commissionaire  and  a  loiterer  followed  him.  Just  then 
Wolfenden  felt  a  soft  touch  on  his  shoulder.  The  girl 
had  opened  the  carriage  door,  and  was  standing  at  his  side. 

"  Is  any  one  hurt  ?  "  she  asked  quickly. 

"  No  one,"  he  answered.  "  It  is  all  over.  The  man  has 
run  away." 


A  DRAMA  OF  THE  PAVEMENT  21 

Mr.  Sabin  stooped  down  and  brushed  away  some  grey 
ash  from  the  front  of  his  coat.  Then  he  took  a  match-box 
from  his  ticket-pocket,  and  re-lit  the  cigarette  which  had 
been  crumpled  in  his  fingers.  His  hand  was  perfectly 
steady.  The  whole  affair  had  scarcely  taken  thirty  seconds. 

"  It  was  probably  some  lunatic,"  he  remarked,  motioning 
to  the  girl  to  resume  her  place  in  the  carriage.  "  I  am 
exceedingly  obliged  to  you,  sir.  Lord  Wolfenden,  I 
believe  ? "  he  added,  raising  his  hat.  "  But  for  your 
intervention  the  matter  might  really  have  been  serious. 
Permit  me  to  offer  you  my  card.  I  trust  that  some  day  I 
may  have  a  better  opportunity  of  expressing  my  thanks. 
At  present  you  will  excuse  me  if  I  hurry.  I  am  not  of 
your  nation,  but  I  share  an  antipathy  with  them — I  hate 
a  row  ! " 

He  stepped  into  the  carriage  with  a  farewell  bow,  and  it 
drove  off  at  once.  Wolfenden  remained  looking  after  it, 
with  his  hat  in  his  hand.  From  the  Embankment  below 
came  the  faint  sound  of  hurrying  footsteps. 


CHAPTER   III 

THE  WARNING   OF   FELIX 

THE  three  friends  stood  upon  the  pavement  watching  the 
little  brougham  until  it  disappeared  round  the  corner  in  a 
flickering  glitter  of  light.  It  would  have  been  in  accord- 
ance with  precedent  if  after  leaving  the  restaurant  they 
had  gone  to  some  one  of  their  clubs  to  smoke  a  cigar  and 
drink  whisky  and  apollinaris,  while  Harcutt  retailed  the 
latest  society  gossip,  and  Densham  descanted  on  art,  and 
Wolfenden  contributed  genial  remarks  upon  things  in  gen- 
eral. But  to-night  all  three  were  inclined  to  depart  from 
precedent.  Perhaps  the  surprising  incident  which  they 
had  just  witnessed  made  anything  like  normal  routine 
seem  unattractive ;  whatever  the  reason  may  have  been, 
the  young  men  were  of  a  sudden  not  in  sympathy  with 
one  another.  Harcutt  murmured  some  conventional  lie 
about  having  an  engagement,  supplemented  it  with  some 
quite  unconvincing  statement  about  pressure  of  work,  and 
concluded  with  an  obviously  disingenuous  protest  against 
the  tyranny  of  the  profession  of  journalism,  then  he  sprang 
with  alacrity  into  a  hansom  and  said  goodbye  with  a  good 
deal  less  than  his  usual  cordiality.  Densham,  too,  hailed  a 
cab,  and  leaning  over  the  apron  delivered  himself  of  a 
farewell  speech  which  sounded  rather  malignant.  "  You 
are  a  lucky  beast,  Wolfenden,"  he  growled  enviously,  add- 
ing, with  a  note  of  venom  in  his  voice,  "  but  don't  forget  it 
takes  more  than  the  first  game  to  win  the  rubber,"  and 

22 


THE  WARNING  OF  FELIX  23 

then  he  was  whirled  away,  nodding  his  head  and  wearing 
an  expression  of  wisdom  deeply  tinged  with  gloom. 

Wolfenden  was  surprised,  but  not  exactly  sorry  that  the 
first  vague  expression  of  hostility  had  been  made  by  the 
others. 

"Both  of  them  must  be  confoundedly  hard  hit,"  he 
murmured  to  himself;  "I  never  knew  Densham  turn  nasty 
before."  And  to  his  coachman  he  said  aloud,  "  You  may 
go  home,  Dawson.  I  am  going  to  walk." 

He  turned  on  to  the  embankment,  conscious  of  a  curious 
sense  of  exhilaration.  He  was  no  blas'e  cynic;  but  the 
uniformly  easy  life  tends  to  become  just  a  trifle  monoto- 
nous, and  Lord  Wolfenden's  somewhat  epicurean  mind  de- 
rived actual  pleasure  from  the  subtle  luxury  of  a  new 
sensation.  What  he  had  said  of  his  friends  he  could  have 
said  with  equal  truth  of  himself :  he  was  confoundedly  hard 
hit.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life  he  found  the  mere 
memory  of  a  woman  thrilling ;  his  whole  nature  vibrated  in 
response  to  the  appeal  she  made  to  him,  and  he  walked 
along  buoyantly  under  the  stars,  revelling  in  the  delight  of 
being  alive. 

Suddenly  he  stopped  abruptly.  Huddled  up  in  the 
corner  of  a  seat  was  a  man  with  a  cloth  cap  pulled  forward 
screening  his  face :  at  that  moment  Lord  Wolfenden  was 
in  a  mood  to  be  extravagantly  generous  to  any  poor  appli- 
cant for  alms,  lavishly  sympathetic  to  any  tale  of  distress. 
But  it  was  not  ordinary  curiosity  that  arrested  his  progress 
now.  He  knew  almost  at  the  first  glance  who  it  was  that 
sat  in  this  dejected  attitude,  although  the  opera  hat  was 
replaced  by  the  soft  cloth  cap,  and  in  other  details  the 
man's  appearance  was  altered.  It  was  indeed  the  Mr. 
Felix  who  had  supped  with  him  at  the  Milan  and  subse- 
quently behaved  in  so  astonishing  a  fashion. 

He  knew  that  he  was  recognised,  and  sat  up,  looking 
steadfastly  at  Wolfenden,  although  his  lips  trembled  and 


24  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABJN 

his  eyes  gleamed  wildly.  Across  his  temples  a  bright  red 
mark  was  scored. 

Lord  Wolfenden  broke  the  silence. 

"  You  're  a  nice  sort  of  fellow  to  ask  out  to  supper  ! 
What  in  the  name  of  all  that 's  wonderful  were  you  trying 
to  do?" 

"  I  should  have  thought  it  was  sufficiently  obvious,"  the 
man  replied  bitterly.  "  I  tried  to  kill  him,  and  I  failed. 
Well,  why  don't  you  call  the  police  ?  I  am  quite  ready. 
I  shall  not  run  again." 

Wolfenden  hesitated,  and  then  sat  down  by  the  side  of 
this  surprising  individual. 

"  The  man  you  went  for  did  n't  seem  to  care,  so  I  don't 
see  why  I  should.  But  why  do  you  want  to  kill  him? " 

"To  keep  a  vow,"  the  other  answered;  "how  and  why 
made  I  will  not  tell  you." 

"  How  did  you  escape  ?  "  Wolfenden  asked  abruptly. 

"  Probably  because  I  did  n't  care  whether  I  escaped  or 
not,"  Felix  replied,  with  a  short,  bitter  laugh.  "  I  stood 
behind  some  shrubs  just  inside  the  garden,  and  watched 
the  hunt  go  by.  Then  I  came  out  here  and  sat  down." 

"It  all  sounds  very  simple,"  said  Wolfenden,  a  trifle 
sarcastically.  "  May  I  ask  what  you  are  going  to  do  next?  " 

Felix's  face  so  clearly  intimated  that  he  might  not  ask 
anything  of  the  kind,  or  that  if  he  did  his  curiosity  would 
not  be  satisfied,  that  Wolfenden  felt  compelled  to  make 
some  apology. 

"  Forgive  me  if  I  seem  inquisitive,  but  I  find  the  situa- 
tion a  little  unusual.  You  were  my  guest,  you  see,  and  had 
it  not  been  for  my  chance  invitation  you  might  not  have 
met  that  man  at  all.  Then  again,  had  it  not  been  for  my 
interference  he  would  have  been  dead  now  and  you  would 
have  been  in  a  fair  way  to  be  hanged." 

Felix  evinced  no  sign  of  gratitude  for  Wolfenden's  inter- 
vention. Instead  he  said  intensely, 


THE  WARNING  OF  FELIX  25 

"  Oh,  you  fool !  you  fool !  " 

"Well,  really,"  Wolfenden  protested,  "I  don't  see 
why "  But  Felix  interrupted  him. 

"  Yes,  you  are  a  fool,"  he  repeated,  "  because  you  saved 
his  life.  He  is  an  old  man  now.  I  wonder  how  many 
there  have  been  in  the  course  of  his  long  life  who  desired 
to  kill  him  ?  But  no  one  —  not  one  solitary  human  being 
—  has  ever  befriended  him  or  come  to  his  rescue  in  time 
of  danger  without  living  to  be  sorry  for  it.  And  so  it  will 
be  with  you.  You  will  live  to  be  sorry  for  what  you 
have  done  to-night ;  you  will  live  to  think  it  would  have 
been  far  better  for  him  to  fall  by  my  hand  than  for  yourself 
to  suffer  at  his.  And  you  will  wish  passionately  that  you 
had  let  him  die.  Before  heaven,  Wolfenden,  I  swear  that 
that  is  true." 

The  man  was  so  much  in  earnest,  his  passion  was  so 
quietly  intense,  that  Wolfenden  against  his  will  was  more 
than  half  convinced.  He  was  silent.  He  suddenly  felt 
cold,  and  the  buoyant  elation  of  mind  in  which  he  had 
started  homewards  vanished,  leaving  him  anxious  and 
heavy,  perhaps  just  a  little  afraid. 

"  I  did  what  any  man  would  do  for  any  one  else,"  he 
said,  almost  apologetically.  "  It  was  instinctive.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  that  particular  man  is  a  perfect  stranger  to 
me.  I  have  never  seen  him  before  and  it  is  quite  possible 
that  I  shall  never  see  him  again." 

Felix  turned  quickly  towards  him. 

"  If  you  believe  in  prayer,"  he  said,  "go  down  on  your 
knees  where  you  are  and  pray  as  you  have  never  prayed 
for  anything  before  that  you  may  not  see  him  again. 
There  has  never  been  a  man  or  a  woman  yet  who  has  not 
been  the  worse  for  knowing  him.  He  is  like  the  pestilence 
that  walketh  in  the  darkness,  poisoning  every  one  that  is  in 
the  way  of  his  horrible  infection." 

Wolfenden  pulled  himself  together.     There  was  no  doubt 


26  MYSTEPIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

about  his  companion's  earnestness,  but  it  was  the  earnest- 
ness of  an  unbalanced  mind.  Language  so  exaggerated 
as  his  was  out  of  keeping  with  the  times  and  the  place. 

"  Tell  me  some  more  about  him,"  he  suggested.  "  Who 
is  he?" 

"  I  won't  tell  you,"  Felix  answered,  obstinately. 

"Well,  then,  who  is  the  lady?" 

"  I  don't  know.  It  is  quite  enough  for  me  to  know  that 
she  is  his  companion  for  the  moment." 

"You  do  not  intend  to  be  communicative,  I  can  see," 
said  Wolfenden,  after  a  brief  pause,  "  but  I  wish  I  could 
persuade  you  to  tell  me  why  you  attempted  his  life 
to-night." 

"  There  was  the  opportunity,"  said  Felix,  as  if  that  in 
itself  were  sufficient  explanation.  Then  he  smiled  enig- 
matically. "  There  are  at  least  three  distinct  and  separate 
reasons  why  I  should  take  his  life, — all  of  them  good. 
Three,  I  mean,  why  I  should  do  it.  But  I  have  not  been 
his  only  victim.  There  are  plenty  of  others  who  have  a 
heavy  reckoning  against  him,  and  he  knows  what  it  is  to 
carry  his  life  in  his  hand.  But  he  bears  a  charmed  exist- 
ence. Did  you  see  his  stick?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Wolfenden,  "  I  did.  It  had  a  peculiar 
stone  in  the  handle ;  in  the  electric  light  it  looked  like  a 
huge  green  opal." 

Felix  assented  moodily. 

"  That  is  it.  He  struck  me  with  a  stick.  He  would 
not  part  with  it  for  anything.  It  was  given  him  by  some 
Indian  fakir,  and  it  is  said  that  while  he  carries  it  he  is 
proof  against  attack." 

"Who  says  so?"  Wolfenden  inquired. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Felix.  "  It 's  enough  that  it  is 
said."  He  relapsed  into  silence,  and  when  he  next  spoke 
his  manner  was  different.  His  excited  vehemence  had 
gone  and  there  was  nothing  in  his  voice  or  demeanour  in- 


THE  WARNING  OF  FELIX  27 

consistent  with  normal  sanity.  Yet  his  words  were  no  less 
charged  with  deep  intention.  "  I  do  not  know  much  about 
you,  Lord  Wolfenden,"  he  said ;  "  but  I  beg  you  to  take 
the  advice  I  am  offering  you.  No  one  ever  gave  you  better 
in  your  life.  Avoid  that  man  as  you  would  avoid  the  plague. 
Go  away  before  he  looks  you  up  to  thank  you  for  what  you 
did.  Go  abroad,  anywhere ;  the  farther  the  better ;  and 
stay  away  for  ever,  if  that  is  the  only  means  of  escaping  his 
friendship  or  even  his  acquaintance." 

Lord  Wolfenden  shook  his  head. 

"  I  'm  a  very  ordinary,  matter  of  fact  Englishman,"  he 
said,  "  leading  a  very  ordinary,  matter  of  fact  life,  and  you 
must  forgive  me  if  I  consider  such  a  sweeping  condemna- 
tion a  little  extravagant  and  fantastic.  I  have  no  particular 
enemies  on  my  conscience,  I  am  implicated  in  no  conspir- 
acy, and  I  am,  in  short,  an  individual  of  very  little  impor- 
tance. Consequently  I  have  nothing  to  fear  from  anybody 
and  am  afraid  of  nobody.  This  man  cannot  have  anything 
to  gain  by  injuring  me.  I  believe  you  said  you  did  not 
know  the  lady?" 

"The  lady?"  Felix  repeated.  "No,  I  do  not  know 
her,  nor  anything  of  her  beyond  the  fact  that  she  is  with 
him  for  the  time  being.  That  is  quite  sufficient  for 
me." 

Wolfenden  got  up. 

"  Thanks,"  he  said  kzily.  "  I  only  asked  you  for  facts. 
As  for  your  suggestion  —  you  will  be  well  advised  not  to 
repeat  it." 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  Felix,  scornfully,  "how  blind  and 
pig-headed  you  English  people  are  !  I  have  told  you 
something  of  the  man's  reputation.  What  can  hers  be,  do 
you  suppose,  if  she  will  sup  alone  with  him  in  a  public 
restaurant?" 

"  Good-night,"  said  Wolfenden.  "  I  will  not  listen  to 
another  word." 


28  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

Felix  rose  to  his  feet  and  laid  his  hand  upon  Lord 
Wolfenden's  arm. 

"  Lord  Wolfenden,"  he  said,  "  you  are  a  very  decent 
fellow :  do  try  to  believe  that  I  am  only  speaking  for  your 
good.  That  girl  -  -  " 

Wolfenden  shook  him  off. 

"  If  you  allude  to  that  young  lady,  either  directly  or  in- 
directly," he  said  very  calmly,  "  I  shall  throw  you  into  the 
river." 

Felix  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  At  least  remember  that  I  warned  you,"  was  all  he  ven- 
tured to  say  as  Lord  Wolfenden  strode  away. 

*  #  #  *  # 

Leaving  the  embankment  Wolfenden  walked  quickly  to 
Half  Moon  Street,  where  his  chambers  were.  His  servant 
let  him  in  and  took  his  coat.  There  was  an  anxious  ex- 
pression upon  his  usually  passive  face  and  he  appeared  to 
be  rather  at  a  loss  for  words  in  which  to  communicate  his 
news.  At  last  he  got  it  out,  accompanying  the  question 
with  a  nervous  and  deprecating  cough. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  my  lord,  but  were  you  expecting  a 
young  lady?  " 

"A  what,  Selby?  "  Wolfenden  exclaimed,  looking  at  him 
in  amazement. 

"  A  lady,  my  lord  :  a  young  lady." 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  Wolfenden,  with  a  frown.     "  What 
on  earth  do  you  mean? " 
Selby  gathered  courage. 

"A  young  lady  called  here  about  an  hour  ago,  and  asked 
for  you.  Johnson  informed  her  that  you  might  be  home 
shortly,  and  she  said  she  would  wait.  Johnson,  perhaps 
imprudently,  admitted  her,  and  she  is  in  the  study,  my 
lord." 

"A  young  lady  in  my  study  at  this  time  of  night!  " 
Wolfenden  exclaimed,  incredulously.  "Who  is  she,  and 


THE  WARNING  OF  FELIX  29 

what  is  she,  and  why  has  she  come  at  all?  Have  you  gone 
mad,  Selby  ?  " 

"Then  you  were  not  expecting  her?"  the  man  said, 
anxiously.  "  She  gave  no  name,  but  she  assured  Johnson 
that  you  did." 

"  You  are  a  couple  of  idiots,"  Wolfenden  said  angrily. 
"  Of  course  I  was  n't  expecting  her.  Surely  both  you  and 
Johnson  have  been  in  my  service  long  enough  to  know  me 
better  than  that." 

"  I  am  exceedingly  sorry,  my  lord,"  the  man  said 
abjectly.  "  But  the  young  lady's  appearance  misled  us 
both.  If  you  will  allow  me  to  say  so,  my  lord,  I  am  quite 
sure  that  she  is  a  lady.  No  doubt  there  is  some  mistake ; 
but  when  you  see  her  I  think  you  will  exonerate  Johnson 
and  me  from " 

His  master  cut  his  protestations  short. 

"  Wait  where  you  are  until  I  ring,"  he  said.  "  It  never 
entered  my  head  that  you  could  be  such  an  incredible 
idiot." 

He  strode  into  the  study,  closing  the  door  behind  him, 
and  Selby  obediently  waited  for  the  bell.  But  a  long 
time  passed  before  the  summons  came. 


CHAPTER    IV 

AT  THE  RUSSIAN   AMBASSADOR'S 

THE  brougham  containing  the  man  who  had  figured  in  the 
"  Milan  "  table  list  as  Mr.  Sabin,  and  his  companion,  turned 
into  the  Strand  and  proceeded  westwards.  Close  behind 
it  came  Harcutt's  private  cab — only  a  few  yards  away  fol- 
lowed Densham's  hansom.  The  procession  continued 
in  the  same  order,  skirting  Trafalgar  Square  and  along 
Pall  Mall. 

Each  in  a  different  manner,  the  three  men  were  perhaps 
equally  interested  in  these  people.  Geoffrey  Densham  was 
attracted  as  an  artist  by  the  extreme  and  rare  beauty  of  the 
girl.  Wolfenden's  interest  was  at  once  more  sentimental 
and  more  personal.  Harcutt's  arose  partly  out  of  curiosity, 
partly  from  innate  love  of  adventure.  Both  Densham  and 
Harcutt  were  exceedingly  interested  as  to  their  probable 
destination.  From  it  they  would  be  able  to  gather  some 
idea  as  to  the  status  and  social  position  of  Mr.  Sabin  and 
his  companion.  Both  were  perhaps  a  little  surprised  when 
the  brougham,  which  had  been  making  its  way  into  the 
heart  of  fashionable  London,  turned  into  Belgrave  Square 
and  pulled  up  before  a  great,  porticoed  house,  brilliantly  lit, 
and  with  a  crimson  drugget  and  covered  way  stretched  out 
across  the  pavement.  Harcutt  sprang  out  first,  just  in  time 
to  see  the  two  pass  through  the  opened  doorway,  the  man 
leaning  heavily  upon  his  stick,  the  girl,  with  her  daintily 
gloved  fingers  just  resting  upon  his  coat-sleeve,  walking  with 

30 


AT  THE  RUSSIAN  AMBASSADOR'S  31 

that  uncommon  and  graceful  self-possession  which  had  so 
attracted  Densham  during  her  passage  through  the  supper- 
room  at  the  "  Milan  "  a  short  while  ago. 

Harcutt  looked  after  them,  watching  them  disappear  with 
a  frown  upon  his  forehead. 

"  Rather  a  sell,  isn't  it  ?  "  said  a  quiet  voice  in  his  ear. 

He  turned  abruptly  round.  Densham  was  standing  upon 
the  pavement  by  his  side. 

"Great  Scott!"  he  exclaimed  testily.  "What  are  you 
doing  here  ?  " 

Densham  threw  away  his  cigarette  and  laughed. 

"  I  might  return  the  question,  I  suppose,"  he  remarked. 
"We  both  followed  the  young  lady  and  her  imaginary 
papa !  We  were  both  anxious  to  find  out  where  they  lived 
— and  we  are  both  sold ! " 

"Very  badly  sold,"  Harcutt  admitted.  "What  do  you 
propose  to  do  now?  We  can't  wait  outside  here  for  an 
hour  or  two ! " 

Densham  hesitated. 

"No,  we  can't  do  that,"  he  said.  "Have  you  any 
plan  ?  " 

Harcutt  shook  his  head. 

"  Can't  say  that  I  have." 

They  were  both  silent  for  a  moment.  Densham  was 
smiling  softly  to  himself.  Watching  him,  Harcutt  became 
quite  assured  that  he  had  decided  what  to  do. 

"Let  us  consider  the  matter  together,"  he  suggested, 
diplomatically.  "  We  ought  to  be  able  to  hit  upon  some- 
thing." 

Densham  shook  his  head  doubtfully. 

"No,"  he  said;  "I  don't  think  that  we  can  run  this 
thing  in  double  harness.  You  see  our  interests  are 
materially  opposed." 

Harcutt  did  not  see  it  in  the  same  light. 

"  Pooh !     We  can  travel  together  by  the  same  road,"  he 


32  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

protested.  "The  time  to  part  company  has  not  come  yet. 
Wolfenden  has  got  a  bit  ahead  of  us  to-night.  After  all, 
though,  you  and  I  may  pull  level,  if  we  help  one  another. 
You  have  a  plan,  I  can  see  !  What  is  it  ?  " 

Densham  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

"  You  know  whose  house  this  is  ?  "  he  asked. 

Harcutt  nodded. 

"  Of  course  !     It's  the  Russian  Ambassador's  !  " 

Densham  drew  a  square  card  from  his  pocket,  and  held 
it  out  under  the  gas-light.  From  it,  it  appeared  that  the 
Princess  Lobenski  desired  the  honour  of  his  company  at 
any  time  that  evening  between  twelve  and  two. 

"  A  card  for  to-night,  by  Jove  ! "  Harcutt  exclaimed. 

Densham  nodded,  and  replaced  it  in  his  pocket. 

"You  see,  Harcutt,"  he  said,  "I  am  bound  to  take  an 
advantage  over  you !  I  only  got  this  card  by  an  accident, 
and  I  certainly  do  not  know  the  Princess  well  enough  to 
present  you.  I  shall  be  compelled  to  leave  you  here  !  All 
that  I  can  promise  is,  that  if  I  discover  anything  interesting 
I  will  let  you  know  about  it  to-morrow.  Good-night ! " 

Harcutt  watched  him  disappear  through  the  open  doors, 
and  then  walked  a  little  way  along  the  pavement,  swearing 
softly  to  himself.  His  first  idea  was  to  wait  about  until  they 
came  out,  and  then  follow  them  again.  By  that  means  he 
would  at  least  be  sure  of  their  address.  He  would  have 
gained  something  for  his  time  and  trouble.  He  lit  a 
cigarette,  and  walked  slowly  to  the  corner  of  the  street. 
Then  he  turned  back  and  retraced  his  steps.  As  he 
neared  the  crimson  strip  of  drugget,  one  of  the  servants 
drew  respectfully  aside,  as  though  expecting  him  to  enter. 
The  man's  action  was  like  an  inspiration  to  him.  He 
glanced  down  the  vista  of  covered  roof.  A  crowd  of 
people  were  making  their  way  up  the  broad  staircase,  and 
amongst  them  Densham.  After  all,  why  not  ?  He  laughed 
softly  to  himself  and  hesitated  no  longer.  He  threw  away 


AT  THE  RUSSIAN  AMBASSADOR'S  33 

his  cigarette  and  walked  boldly  in.  He  was  doing  a  thing 
for  which  he  well  knew  that  he  deserved  to  be  kicked.  At 
the  same  time,  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  go  through 
with  it,  and  he  was  not  the  man  to  fail  through  nervousness 
or  want  of  savoirfaire. 

At  the  cloak-room  the  multitude  of  men  inspired  him 
with  new  confidence.  There  were  some,  a  very  fair 
sprinkling,  whom  he  knew,  and  who  greeted  him  indif- 
ferently, without  appearing  in  any  way  to  regard  his  pre- 
sence as  a  thing  out  of  the  common.  He  walked  up  the 
staircase,  one  of  a  little  group ;  but  as  they  passed  through 
the  ante  room  to  where  in  the  distance  Prince  and  Princess 
Lobenski  were  standing  to  receive  their  guests,  Harcutt 
adroitly  disengaged  himself — he  affected  to  pause  for  a 
moment  or  two  to  speak  to  an  acquaintance.  When  he 
was  left  alone,  he  turned  sharp  to  the  right  and  entered 
the  main  dancing-salon. 

He  was  quite  safe  now,  and  his  spirits  began  to  rise. 
Yonder  was  Densham,  looking  very  bored,  dancing  with 
a  girl  in  yellow.  So  far  at  least  he  had  gained  no  advan- 
tage. He  looked  everywhere  in  vain,  however,  for  a  man 
with  a  club  foot  and  the  girl  in  white  and  diamonds.  They 
must  be  in  one  of  the  inner  rooms.  He  began  to  make 
a  little  tour. 

Two  of  the  ante-chambers  he  explored  without  result. 
In  the  third,  two  men  were  standing  near  the  entrance, 
talking.  Harcutt  almost  held  his  breath  as  he  came  to  an 
abrupt  stop  within  a  yard  or  two  of  them.  One  was  the  man 
for  whom  he  had  been  looking,  the  other — Harcutt  seemed 
to  find  his  face  perfectly  familiar,  but  for  the  moment 
he  could  not  identify  him.  He  was  tall,  with  white  hair 
and  moustaches.  His  coat  was  covered  with  foreign  orders, 
and  he  wore  English  court  dress.  His  hands  were  clasped 
behind  his  back ;  he  was  talking  in  a  low,  clear  tone,  stoop- 
ing a  iittle,  and  with  eyes  steadfastly  fixed  upon  his  com- 

3 


34  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

panion.  Mr.  Sabin  was  leaning  a  little  forward,  with  both 
hands  resting  upon  his  stick.  Harcutt  was  struck  at  once 
with  the  singular  immobility  of  his  face.  He  did  not  appear 
either  interested  or  amused  or  acquiescent.  He  was  simply 
listening.  A  few  words  from  the  other  man  came  to 
Harcutt's  ears,  as  he  lingered  there  on  the  other  side  of 
the  curtain. 

"  If  it  were  money — a  question  of  monetary  recompense — 
the  secret  service  purse  of  my  country  opens  easily,  and  it 
is  well  filled.  If  it  were  anything  less  simple,  the  proposal 
could  but  be  made.  I  am  taking  the  thing,  you  under- 
stand, at  your  own  computation  of  its  worth  !  I  am  taking 
it  for  granted  that  it  carries  with  it  the  power  you  claim  for 
it.  Assuming  these  things,  I  am  prepared  to  treat  with  you. 
I  am  going  on  leave  very  shortly,  and  I  could  myself  con- 
duct the  negotiations." 

Harcutt  would  have  moved  away,  but  he  was  absolutely 
powerless.  Naturally,  and  from  his  journalistic  instincts, 
he  was  one  of  the  most  curious  of  men.  He  had  recognised 
the  speaker.  The  interview  was  pregnant  with  possibilities. 
Who  was  this  Mr.  Sabin,  that  so  great  a  man  should  talk 
with  him  so  earnestly?  He  was  looking  up  now,  he  was 
going  to  speak.  What  was  he  going  to  say  ?  Harcutt  held 
his  breath.  The  idea  of  moving  away  never  occurred  to 
him  now. 

"  Yet,"  Mr.  Sabin  said  slowly,  "  your  country  should  be 
a  low  bidder.  The  importance  of  such  a  thing  to  you  must 
be  less  than  to  France,  less  than  to  her  great  ally.  Your 
relations  here  are  close  and  friendly.  Nature  and  destiny 
seemed  to  have  made  you  allies.  As  yet  there  has  been  no 
rift — no  sign  of  a  rift" 

"You  are  right,"  the  other  man  answered  slowly;  "and 
yet  who  can  tell  what  lies  before  us?  In  less  than  a  dozen 
years  the  face  of  all  Europe  may  be  changed.  The  policy 
of  a  great  nation  is,  to  all  appearance,  a  steadfast  thing.  On 


AT  THE  RUSSIAN  AMBASSADOR'S  35 

the  face  of  it,  it  continues  the  same,  age  after  age.  Yet  if 
a  change  is  to  come,  it  comes  from  within:  It  develops 
slowly.  It  grows  from  within,  outwards,  very  slowly,  like 
a  secret  thing.  Do  you  follow  me  ?  " 

"I  think  —  perhaps  I  do,"  Mr.  Sabin  admitted  de- 
liberately. 

The  Ambassador's  voice  dropped  almost  to  a  whisper, 
and  but  for  its  singularly  penetrating  quality  Harcutt 
would  have  heard  no  more.  As  it  was,  he  had  almost 
to  hold  his  breath,  and  all  his  nerves  quivered  with  the 
tension  of  listening. 

"  Even  the  Press  is  deceived.  The  inspired  organs  pur- 
posely mislead.  Outside  to  all  the  world  there  seems  to  be 
nothing  brewing  ;  yet,  when  the  storm  bursts,  one  sees  that 
it  has  been  long  in  gathering — that  years  of  careful  study  and 
thought  have  been  given  to  that  hidden  triumph  of  diplo- 
macy. All  has  been  locked  in  the  breasts  of  a  few.  The 
thing  is  full-fledged  when  it  is  hatched  upon  the  world.  It 
has  grown  strong  in  darkness.  You  understand  me  ?  " 

"  Yes;  I  think  that  I  understand  you,"  Mr.  Sabin  said,  his 
piercing  eyes  raised  now  from  the  ground  and  fixed  upon 
the  other  man's  face.  "You  have  given  me  food  for  serious 
thought.  I  shall  do  nothing  further  till  I  have  talked  with 
you  again." 

Harcutt  suddenly  and  swiftly  withdrew.  He  had  stayed 
as  long  as  he  dared.  At  any  moment  his  presence  might 
have  been  detected,  and  he  would  have  been  involved  in 
a  situation  which  even  the  nerve  and  effrontery  acquired 
during  the  practice  of  his  profession  could  not  have  rendered 
endurable.  He  found  a  seat  in  an  adjoining  room,  and  sat 
quite  still,  thinking.  His  brain  was  in  a  whirl.  He  had 
almost  forgotten  the  special  object  of  his  quest.  He  felt 
like  a  conspirator.  The  fascination  of  the  unknown  was 
upon  him.  Their  first  instinct  concerning  these  people  had 
been  a  true  one.  They  were  indeed  no  ordinary  people. 


36  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SAB1N 

He  must  follow  them  up — he  must  know  more  about  them. 
Once  more  he  thought  over  what  he  had  heard.  It  was 
mysterious,  but  it  was  interesting.  It  might  mean  anything. 
The  man  with  Mr.  Sabin  he  had  recognised  the  moment 
he  spoke.  It  was  Baron  von  Knigenstein,  the  German 
Ambassador.  Those  were  strange  words  of  his.  He 
pondered  them  over  again.  The  journalistic  fever  was 
upon  him.  He  was  no  longer  in  love.  He  had  over- 
heard a  few  words  of  a  discussion  of  tremendous  import. 
If  only  he  could  get  the  key  to  it !  If  only  he  could 
follow  this  thing  through,  then  farewell  to  society  para- 
graphing and  playing  at  journalism.  His  reputation  would 
be  made  for  ever  ! 

He  rose,  and  finding  his  way  to  the  refreshment-room, 
drank  off  a  glass  of  champagne.  Then  he  walked  back  to 
the  main  salon.  Standing  with  his  back  to  the  wall,  and 
half-hidden  by  a  tall  palm  tree,  was  Densham.  He  was 
alone.  His  arms  were  folded,  and  he  was  looking  out 
upon  the  dancers  with  a  gloomy  frown.  Harcutt  stepped 
softly  up  to  him. 

"  Well,  how  are  you  getting  on,  old  chap  ?  "  he  whispered 
in  his  ear. 

Densham  started,  and  looked  at  Harcutt  in  blank  sur- 
prise. 

"  Why,  how  the — excuse  me,  how  on  earth  did  you  get 
in  ?  "  he  exclaimed. 

Harcutt  smiled  in  a  mysterious  manner. 

"  Oh !  we  journalists  are  trained  to  overcome  small  diffi- 
culties," he  said  airily.  "  It  wasn't  a  very  hard  task.  The 
Morning  is  a  pretty  good  passport.  Getting  in  was  easy 
enough.  Where  is — she  ?  " 

Densham  moved  his  head  in  the  direction  of  the  broad 
space  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  where  the  Ambassador  and 
his  wife  had  received  their  guests. 

"  She  is  under  the  special  wing  of  the  Princess.     She  is 


AT  THE  RUSSIAN  AMBASSADOR'S  37 

up  at  that  end  of  the  room  somewhere  with  a  lot  of  old 
frumps." 

"  Have  you  asked  for  an  introduction  ?  " 

Densham  nodded. 

"  Yes,  I  asked  young  Lobenski.  It  is  no  good.  He 
does  not  know  who  she  is ;  but  she  does  not  dance,  and 
is  not  allowed  to  make  acquaintances.  That  is  what  it 
comes  to,  anyway.  It  was  not  a  personal  matter  at  all. 
Lobenski  did  not  even  mention  my  name  to  his  mother. 
He  simply  said  a  friend.  The  Princess  replied  that  she  was 
very  sorry,  but  there  was  some  difficulty.  The  young  lady's 
guardian  did  not  wish  her  to  make  acquaintances  for  the 
present." 

"  Her  guardian  !     He's  not  her  father,  then  ?  " 

"  No  !  It  was  either  her  guardian  or  her  uncle  !  I  am 
not  sure  which.  By  Jove  !  There  they  go  !  They're  off." 

They  both  hurried  to  the  cloak-room  for  their  coats,  and 
reached  the  street  in  time  to  see  the  people  in  whom  they 
were  so  interested  coming  down  the  stairs  towards  them. 
In  the  glare  of  the  electric  light,  the  girl's  pale,  upraised 
face  shone  like  a  piece  of  delicate  statuary.  To  Densham, 
the  artist,  she  was  irresistible.  He  drew  Harcutt  right  back 
amongst  the  shadows. 

"  She  is  the  most  beautiful  woman  I  have  ever  seen  in 
my  life,"  he  said  deliberately.  "Titian  never  conceived 
anything  more  exquisite.  She  is  a  woman  to  paint  and  to 
worship  !  " 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  now  ?  "  Harcutt  asked  drily. 
"You  can  rave  about  her  in  your  studio,  if  you  like." 

"  I  am  going  to  find  out  where  she  lives,  if  I  have  to 
follow  her  home  on  foot !  It  will  be  something  to  know 
that." 

"  Two  of  us,"  Harcutt  protested.     "  It  is  too  obvious." 

"  I  can't  help  that,"  Densham  replied.  "  I  do  not  sleep 
until  I  have  found  out" 


38  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

Harcutt  looked  dubious. 

"  Look  here,"  he  said,  "  we  need  not  both  go  !  I  will 
leave  it  to  you  on  one  condition." 

"  Well  ?  " 

"  You  must  let  me  know  to-morrow  what  you  discover." 

Densham  hesitated. 

"  Agreed,"  he  decided.  "  There  they  go  !  Good-night. 
I  will  call  at  your  rooms,  or  send  a  note,  to-morrow." 

Densham  jumped  into  his  cab  and  drove  away.  Harcutt 
looked  after  them  thoughtfully. 

"  The  girl  is  very  lovely,"  he  said  to  himself,  as  he  stood 
on  the  pavement  waiting  for  his  carriage ;  "  but  I  do  not 
think  that  she  is  for  you,  Densham,  or  for  me  !  On  the 
whole,  I  am  more  interested  in  the  man  ! " 


CHAPTER  V 

THE   DILEMMA   OF   WOLFENDEN 

WOLFENDEN  was  evidently  absolutely  unprepared  to  see  the 
girl  whom  he  found  occupying  his  own  particular  easy  chair 
in  his  study.  The  light  was  only  a  dim  one,  and  as  she  did 
not  move  or  turn  round  at  his  entrance  he  did  not  recognise 
her  until  he  was  standing  on  the  hearthrug  by  her  side. 
Then  he  started  with  a  little  exclamation. 

"  Miss  Merton  !     Why,  what  on  earth " 

He  stopped  in  the  middle  of  his  question  and  looked 
intently  at  her.  Her  head  was  thrown  back  amongst  the 
cushions  of  the  chair,  and  she  was  fast  asleep.  Her  hat 
was  a  little  crushed  and  a  little  curl  of  fair  hair  had  escaped 
and  was  hanging  down  over  her  forehead.  There  were 
undoubtedly  tear  stains  upon  her  pretty  face.  Her  plain, 
black  jacket  was  half  undone,  and  the  gloves  which  she  had 
taken  off  lay  in  her  lap.  Wolfenden's  anger  subsided  at 
once.  No  wonder  Selby  had  been  perplexed.  But  Selby's 
perplexity  was  nothing  to  his  own. 

She  woke  up  suddenly  and  saw  him  standing  there,  traces 
of  his  amazement  still  lingering  on  his  face.  She  looked  at 
him,  half-frightened,  half-wistfully.  The  colour  came  and 
went  in  her  cheeks — her  eyes  grew  soft  with  tears.  He 
felt  himself  a  brute.  Surely  it  was  not  possible  that  she 
could  be  acting !  He  spoke  to  her  more  kindly  than  he 
had  intended. 

"  What  on  earth  has  brought  you  up  to  town — and  here 

39 


40  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

— at  this  time  of  night  ?  Is  anything  wrong  at  Dering- 
ham  ?  " 

She  sat  up  in  the  chair  and  looked  at  him  with  quivering 
lips. 

"  N — no,  nothing  particular ;  only  I  have  left." 

"  You  have  left !  " 

"  Yes ;  I  have  been  turned  away,"  she  added,  piteously. 

He  looked  at  her  blankly. 

"  Turned  away  !  Why,  what  for  ?  Do  you  mean  to  say 
that  you  have  left  for  good  ? " 

She  nodded,  and  commenced  to  dry  her  eyes  with  a  little 
lace  handkerchief. 

"  Yes — your  mother — Lady  Deringham  has  been  very 
horrid — as  though  the  silly  papers  were  of  any  use  to  me  or 
any  one  else  in  the  world  !  I  have  not  copied  them.  I 
am  not  deceitful !  It  is  all  an  excuse  to  get  rid  of  me 
because  of — of  you." 

She  looked  up  at  him  and  suddenly  dropped  her  eyes. 
Wolfenden  began  to  see  some  glimmerings  of  light.  He 
was  still,  however,  bewildered. 

"  Look  here,"  he  said  kindly,  "  why  you  are  here  I 
cannot  for  the  life  of  me  imagine,  but  you  had  better  just 
tell  me  all  about  it." 

She  rose  up  suddenly  and  caught  her  gloves  from  the 
table. 

"  I  think  I  will  go  away,"  she  said.  "  I  was  very  stupid 
to  come ;  please  forget  it  and Goodbye." 

He  caught  her  by  the  wrist  as  she  passed. 

"  Nonsense,"  he  exclaimed,  "  you  mustn't  go  like  this." 

She  looked  steadfastly  away  from  him  and  tried  to  with- 
draw her  arm. 

"  You  are  angry  with  me  for  coming,"  she  said.  "  I  am 
very,  very  sorry ;  I  will  go  away.  Please  don't  stop  me." 

He  held  her  wrist  firmly. 

"  Miss  Merton ! " 


THE  DILEMMA  OF  WOLFENDEN  41 

"  Miss  Merton  !  "  She  repeated  his  words  reproachfully, 
lifting  her  eyes  suddenly  to  his,  that  he  might  see  the  tears 
gathering  there.  Wolfenden  began  to  feel  exceedingly 
uncomfortable. 

"  Well,  Blanche,  then,"  he  said  slowly.    "  Is  that  better  ?  " 

She  answered  nothing,  but  looked  at  him  again.  Her 
hand  remained  in  his.  She  suffered  him  to  lead  her  back 
to  the  chair. 

"  It's  all  nonsense  your  going  away,  you  know,"  he  said 
a  little  awkwardly.  "You  can't  wonder  that  I  am  sur- 
prised. Perhaps  you  don't  know  that  it  is  a  little  late — 
after  midnight,  in  fact.  Where  should  you  go  to  if  you  ran 
away  like  that  ?  Do  you  know  any  one  in  London  ?  " 

"  I — don't  think  so,"  she  admitted. 

"Well,  do  be  reasonable  then.  First  of  all  tell  me  all 
about  it." 

She  nodded,  and  began  at  once,  now  and  then  lifting 
her  eyes  to  his,  mostly  gazing  fixedly  at  the  gloves  which 
she  was  smoothing  carefully  out  upon  her  knee. 

"I  think,"  she  said,  "that  Lord  Deringham  is  not  so 
well.  What  he  has  been  writing  has  become  more  and 
more  incoherent,  and  it  has  been  very  difficult  to  copy  it  at 
all.  I  have  done  my  best  but  he  has  never  seemed  satis- 
fied ;  and  he  has  taken  to  watch  me  in  an  odd  sort  of  way, 
just  as  though  I  was  doing  something  wrong  all  the  time. 
You  know  he  fancies  that  the  work  he  is  putting  together 
is  of  immense  importance.  Of  course  I  don't  know  that  it 
isn't.  All  I  do  know  is  that  it  sounds  and  reads  like  abso- 
lute rubbish,  and  it's  awfully  difficult  to  copy.  He  writes 
very  quickly  and  uses  all  manner  of  abbreviations,  and  if  I 
make  a  single  mistake  in  typing  it  he  gets  horribly  cross." 

Wolfenden  laughed  softly. 

"  Poor  little  girl !     Go  on." 

She  smiled  too,  and  continued  with  less  constraint  in  her 
tone. 


42  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"  I  didn't  really  mind  that  so  much,  as  of  course  I  have 
been  getting  a  lot  of  money  for  the  work,  and  one  can't 
have  everything.  But  just  lately  he  seems  to  have  got  the 
idea  that  I  have  been  making  two  copies  of  this  rubbish 
and  keeping  one  back.  He  has  kept  on  coming  into  the 
room  unexpectedly,  and  has  sat  for  hours  watching  me  in 
a  most  unpleasant  manner.  I  have  not  been  allowed  to 
leave  the  house,  and  all  my  letters  have  been  looked  over ; 
it  has  been  perfectly  horrid." 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  Wolfenden  said.  "  Of  course  you 
knew  though  that  it  was  going  to  be  rather  difficult  to 
please  my  father,  didn't  you  ?  The  doctors  differ  a  little 
as  to  his  precise  mental  condition,  but  we  are  all  aware  that 
he  is  at  any  rate  a  trifle  peculiar." 

She  smiled  a  little  bitterly. 

"  Oh  !  I  am  not  complaining,"  she  said.  "  I  should  have 
stood  it  somehow  for  the  sake  of  the  money ;  but  I  haven't 
told  you  everything  yet.  The  worst  part,  so  far  as  I  am 
concerned,  is  to  come." 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  he  said  ;  "  please  go  on." 

"This  morning  your  father  came  very  early  into  the 
study  and  found  a  sheet  of  carbon  paper  on  my  desk  and 
two  copies  of  one  page  of  the  work  I  was  doing.  As  a 
matter  of  fact  I  had  never  used  it  before,  but  I  wanted  to 
try  it  for  practice.  There  was  no  harm  in  it — I  should 
have  destroyed  the  second  sheet  in  a  minute  or  two,  and  in 
any  case  it  was  so  badly  done  that  it  was  absolutely  worth- 
less. But  directly  Lord  Ueringham  saw  it  he  went  quite 
white,  and  I  thought  he  was  going  to  have  a  fit.  I  can't 
tell  you  all  he  said.  He  was  brutal.  The  end  of  it  was 
that  my  boxes  were  all  turned  out  and  my  desk  and  every- 
thing belonging  to  me  searched  as  though  I  were  a  house- 
maid suspected  of  theft,  and  all  the  time  I  was  kept  locked 
up.  When  they  had  finished,  I  was  told  to  put  my  hat  on 
and  go.  I — I  had  nowhere  to  go  to,  for  Muriel — you 


THE  DILEMMA  OF  WOLFENDEN  43 

remember  I  told  you  about  my  sister — went  to  America 
last  week.  I  hadn't  the  least  idea  what  to  do — and  so — I 
— you  were  the  only  person  who  had  ever  been  kind  to 
me,"  she  concluded,  suddenly  leaning  over  towards  him,  a 
little  sob  in  her  throat,  and  her  eyes  swimming  with  tears. 

There  are  certain  situations  in  life  when  an  honest  man 
is  at  an  obvious  disadvantage.  Wolfenden  felt  awkward 
and  desperately  ill  at  ease.  He  evaded  the  embrace  which 
her  movement  and  eyes  had  palpably  invited,  and  com- 
promised matters  by  taking  her  hands  and  holding  them 
tightly  in  his.  Even  then  he  felt  far  from  comfortable. 

"But  my  mother,"  he  exclaimed.  "Lady  Deringham 
surely  took  your  part  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head  vigorously. 

"  Lady  Deringham  did  nothing  of  the  sort,"  she  replied. 
"  Do  you  remember  last  time  when  you  were  down  you 
took  me  for  a  walk  once  or  twice  and  you  talked  to  me  in 
the  evenings,  and — but  perhaps  you  have  forgotten.  Have 
you  ?  " 

She  was  looking  at  him  so  eagerly  that  there  was  only 
one  answer  possible  for  him.  He  hastened  to  make  it. 
There  was  a  certain  lack  of  enthusiasm  in  his  avowal, 
however,  which  brought  a  look  of  reproach  into  her  face. 
She  sighed  and  looked  away  into  the  fire. 

"Well,"  she  continued,  "Lady  Deringham  has  never 
been  the  same  since  then  to  me.  It  didn't  matter  while 
you  were  there,  but  after  you  left  it  was  very  wretched.  I 
wrote  to  you,  but  you  never  answered  my  letter." 

He  was  very  well  aware  of  it.  He  had  never  asked  her 
to  write,  and  her  note  had  seemed  to  him  a  trifle  too 
ingenuous.  He  had  never  meant  to  answer  it. 

"  I  so  seldom  write  letters,"  he  said.  "  I  thought,  too, 
that  it  must  have  been  your  fancy.  My  mother  is  generally 
considered  a  very  good-hearted  woman." 

She  laughed  bitterly. 


44  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"Oh,  one  does  not  fancy  those  things,"  she  said. 
"Lady  Deringham  has  been  coldly  civil  to  me  ever 
since,  and  nothing  more.  This  morning  she  seemed  abso- 
lutely pleased  to  have  an  excuse  for  sending  me  away. 
She  knows  quite  well,  of  course,  that  Lord  Deringham 
is — not  himself;  but  she  took  everything  he  said  for 
gospel,  and  turned  me  out  of  the  house.  There,  now 
you  know  everything.  Perhaps  after  all  it  was  idiotic  to 
come  to  you.  Well,  I'm  only  a  girl,  and  girls  are  idiots ; 
I  haven't  a  friend  in  the  world,  and  if  I  were  alone  I  should 
die  of  loneliness  in  a  week.  You  won't  send  me  away? 
You  are  not  angry  with  me  ?  " 

She  made  a  movement  towards  him,  but  he  held  her 
hands  tightly.  For  the  first  time  he  began  to  see  his  way 
before  him.  A  certain  ingenuousness  in  her  speech  and  in 
that  little  half-forgotten  note — an  ingenuousness,  by  the  bye, 
of  which  he  had  some  doubts — was  his  salvation.  He 
would  accept  it  as  absolutely  genuine.  She  was  a  child 
who  had  come  to  him,  because  he  had  been  kind  to  her. 

"  Of  course  I  am  not  angry  with  you,"  he  said,  quite 
emphatically.  "  I  am  very  glad  indeed  that  you  came.  It 
is  only  right  that  I  should  help  you  when  my  people  seem 
to  have  treated  you  so  wretchedly.  Let  me  think  for  a 
moment." 

She  watched  him  very  anxiously,  and  moved  a  little 
closer  to  him. 

"  Tell  me,"  she  murmured,  "  what  are  you  thinking 
about?" 

"I  have  it,"  he  answered,  standing  suddenly  up  and 
touching  the  bell.  "  It  is  an  excellent  idea." 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  she  asked  quickly. 

He  did  not  appear  to  hear  her  question.  Selby  was 
standing  upon  the  threshold.  Wolfenden  spoke  to  him. 

"  Selby,  are  your  wife's  rooms  still  vacant  ?  " 

Selby  believed  that  they  were. 


THE  DILEMMA  OF  WOLFENDEN  45 

"That's  all  right  then.  Put  on  your  hat  and  coat  at 
once.  I  want  you  to  take  this  young  lady  round  there." 

"Very  good,  my  lord." 

"  Her  luggage  has  been  lost  and  may  not  arrive  until 
to-morrow.  Be  sure  you  tell  Mrs  Selby  to  do  all  in  her 
power  to  make  things  comfortable." 

The  girl  had  gone  very  pale.  Wolfenden,  watching  her 
closely,  was  surprised  at  her  expression. 

"  I  think,"  he  said,  "  that  you  will  find  Mrs.  Selby  a 
very  decent  sort  of  a  person.  If  I  may,  I  will  come  and 
see  you  to-morrow,  and  you  shall  tell  me  how  I  can  help 
you.  I  am  very  glad  indeed  that  you  came  to  me." 

She  shot  a  single  glance  at  him,  partly  of  anger,  partly 
reproach. 

"  You  are  very,  very  kind,"  she  said  slowly,  "  and  very 
considerate,"  she  added,  after  a  moment's  pause.  "  I  shall 
not  forget  it." 

She  looked  him  then  straight  in  the  eyes.  He  was  more 
glad  than  he  would  have  liked  to  confess  even  to  himself  to 
hear  Selby's  knock  at  the  door. 

"  You  have  nothing  to  thank  me  for  yet  at  any  rate,"  he 
said,  taking  her  hand.  "  I  shall  be  only  too  glad  if  you  will 
let  me  be  of  service  to  you." 

He  led  her  out  to  the  carriage  and  watched  it  drive  away, 
with  Selby  on  the  box  seat.  Her  last  glance,  as  she  leaned 
back  amongst  the  cushions,  was  a  tender  one ;  her  lips  were 
quivering,  and  her  little  fingers  more  than  returned  his  pres- 
sure. But  Wolfenden  walked  back  to  his  study  with  all  the 
pleasurable  feelings  of  a  man  who  has  extricated  himself 
with  tact  from  an  awkward  situation. 

"  The  frankness,"  he  remarked  to  himself,  as  he  lit  a  pipe 
and  stretched  himself  out  for  a  final  smoke,  "  was  a  trifle, 
just  a  trifle,  overdone.  She  gave  the  whole  show  away  with 
that  last  glance.  I  should  like  very  much  to  know  what 
it  all  means." 


CHAPTER  VI 

A   COMPACT   OF   THREE 

WOLFENDEN,  for  an  idler,  was  a  young  man  of  fairly  precise 
habits.  By  ten  o'clock  next  morning  he  had  breakfasted, 
and  before  eleven  he  was  riding  in  the  Park.  Perhaps  he 
had  some  faint  hope  of  seeing  there  something  of  the  two 
people  in  whom  he  was  now  greatly  interested.  If  so  he 
was  certainly  disappointed.  He  looked  with  a  new  curiosity 
into  the  faces  of  the  girls  who  galloped  past  him,  and  he 
was  careful  even  to  take  particular  notice  of  the  few  prome- 
naders.  But  he  did  not  see  anything  of  Mr.  Sabin  or  his 
companion. 

At  twelve  o'clock  he  returned  to  his  rooms  and  exchanged 
his  riding-clothes  for  the  ordinary  garb  of  the  West  End. 
He  even  looked  on  his  hall-table  as  he  passed  out  again, 
to  see  if  there  were  any  note  or  card  for  him. 

"  He  could  scarcely  look  me  up  just  yet,  at  any  rate,"  he 
reflected,  as  he  walked  slowly  along  Piccadilly,  "  for  he  did 
not  even  ask  me  for  my  address.  He  took  the  whole 
thing  so  coolly  that  perhaps  he  does  not  mean  even  to 
call." 

Nevertheless,  he  looked  in  the  rack  at  his  club  to  see  if 
there  was  anything  against  his  name,  and  tore  irito  pieces 
the  few  unimportant  notes  he  found  there,  with  an  impa- 
tience which  they  scarcely  deserved.  Of  the  few  acquaint- 
ances whom  he  met  there,  he  inquired  casually  whether 
they  knew  anything  of  a  man  named  "  Sabin."  No  one 

46 


A  COMPACT  OF  THREE  47 

seemed  to  have  heard  the  name  before.  He  even  con- 
sulted a  directory  in  the  hall,  but  without  success.  At  one 
o'clock,  in  a  fit  of  restlessness,  he  went  out,  and  taking  a 
hansom  drove  over  to  Westminster,  to  Harcutt's  rooms. 
Harcutt  was  in,  and  with  him  Densham.  At  Wolfenden's 
entrance  the  three  men  looked  at  one  another,  and  there 
was  a  simultaneous  laugh. 

"  Here  comes  the  hero,"  Densham  remarked.  "  He  will 
be  able  to  tell  us  everything." 

"  I  came  to  gather  information,  not  to  impart  it,"  Wol- 
fenden  answered,  selecting  a  cigarette,  and  taking  an  easy 
chair.  "  I  know  precisely  as  much  as  I  knew  last  night." 

"  Mr.  Sabin  has  not  been  to  pour  out  his  gratitude  yet, 
then  ?  "  Densham  asked. 

Wolfenden  shook  his  head. 

"Not  yet.  On  the  whole,  I  am  inclined  to  think  that 
he  will  not  come  at  all.  He  doubtless  considers  that  he 
has  done  all  that  is  necessary  in  the  way  of  thanks.  He 
did  not  even  ask  for  my  card,  and  giving  me  his  was  only 
a  matter  of  form,  for  there  was  no  address  upon  it." 

"  But  he  knew  your  name,"  Harcutt  reminded  him.  "  I 
noticed  that." 

"  Yes.  I  suppose  he  could  find  me  if  he  wished  to," 
Wolfenden  admitted.  "  If  he  had  been  very  keen  about  it, 
though,  I  should  think  he  would  have  said  something  more. 
His  one  idea  seemed  to  be  to  get  away  before  there  was  a 
row." 

"  I  do  not  think,"  Harcutt  said,  "  that  you  will  find  him 
overburdened  with  gratitude.  He  does  not  seem  that  sort 
of  man." 

"I  do  not  want  any  gratitude  from  him,"  Wolfenden 
answered,  deliberately.  "  So  far  as  the  man  himself  is  con- 
cerned I  should  rather  prefer  never  to  see  him  again.  By 
the  bye.  did  either  of  you  fellows  follow  them  home  last 
night?" 


48  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

Harcutt  and  Densham  exchanged  quick  glances.  Wol- 
fenden  had  asked  his  question  quietly,  but  it  was  evidently 
what  he  had  come  to  know. 

"  Yes,"  Harcutt  said,  "  we  both  did.  They  are  evidently 
people  of  some  consequence.  They  went  first  to  the  house 
of  the  Russian  Ambassador,  Prince  Lobenski." 

Wolfenden  swore  to  himself  softly.  He  could  have  been 
there.  He  made  a  mental  note  to  leave  a  card  at  the 
Embassy  that  afternoon. 

"  And  afterwards  ?  " 

"  Afterwards  they  drove  to  a  house  in  Chilton  Gardens, 
Kensington,  where  they  remained." 

"  The  presumption  being,  then "  Wolfenden  began. 

"  That  they  live  there,"  Harcutt  put  in.  "  In  fact,  I  may 
say  that  we  ascertained  that  definitely.  The  man's  name  is 
'  Sabin,'  and  the  girl  is  reputed  to  be  his  niece.  Now  you 
know  as  much  as  we  do.  The  relationship,  however,  is 
little  more  than  a  surmise." 

"Did  either  of  you  go  to  the  reception?"  Wolfenden 
asked. 

"  We  both  did,"  Harcutt  answered. 

Wolfenden  raised  his  eyebrows. 

"You  were  there!  Then  why  didn't  you  make  their 
acquaintance  ?  " 

Densham  laughed  shortly. 

"  I  asked  for  an  introduction  to  the  girl,"  he  said,  "  and 
was  politely  declined.  She  was  under  the  special  charge  of 
the  Princess,  and  was  presented  to  no  one." 

"  And  Mr.  Sabin  ?  "  Wolfenden  asked. 

"  He  was  talking  all  the  time  to  Baron  von  Knigen- 
stein,  the  German  Ambassador.  They  did  not  stay 
long." 

Wolfenden  smiled. 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  he  said,  "  that  you  had  an  excellent 
opportunity  and  let  it  go." 


A  COMPACT  OF  THREE  49 

Harcutt  threw  his  cigarette  into  the  fire  with  an  impatient 
gesture. 

"  You  may  think  so,"  he  said.  "  All  I  can  say  is,  that  if 
you  had  been  there  yourself,  you  could  have  done  no  more. 
At  any  rate,  we  have  no  particular  difficulty  now  in  finding 
out  who  this  mysterious  Mr.  Sabin  and  the  girl  are.  We 
may  assume  that  there  is  a  relationship,"  he  added,  "or 
they  would  scarcely  have  been  at  the  Embassy,  where,  as  a 
rule,  the  guests  make  up  in  respectability  what  they  lack  in 
brilliancy." 

"As  to  the  relationship,"  Wolfenden  said,  "I  am  quite  pre- 
pared to  take  that  for  granted.  I,  for  one,  never  doubted  it." 

"That,"  Harcutt  remarked,  "is  because  you  are  young, 
and  a  little  quixotic.  When  you  have  lived  as  long  as  I 
have  you  will  doubt  everything.  You  will  take  nothing  for 
granted  unless  you  desire  to  live  for  ever  amongst  the  ruins 
of  your  shattered  enthusiasms.  If  you  are  wise,  you  will 
always  assume  that  your  swans  are  geese  until  you  have 
proved  them  to  be  swans." 

"That  is  very  cheap  cynicism,"  Wolfenden  remarked 
equably.  "I  am  surprised  at  you,  Harcutt.  I  thought 
that  you  were  more  in  touch  with  the  times.  Don't  you 
know  that  to-day  nobody  is  cynical  except  schoolboys  and 
dyspeptics?  Pessimism  went  out  with  sack  overcoats. 
Your  remarks  remind  me  of  the  morning  odour  of 
patchouli  and  stale  smoke  in  a  cheap  Quartier  Latin  dancing- 
room.  To  be  in  the  fashion  of  to-day,  you  must  cultivate 
a  gentle,  almost  arcadian  enthusiasm,  you  must  wear  rose- 
coloured  spectacles  and  pretend  that  you  like  them. 
Didn't  you  hear  what  Flaskett  said  last  week  ?  There  is  an 
epidemic  of  morality  in  the  air.  We  are  all  going  to  be 
very  good." 

"  Some  of  us,"  Densham  remarked,  "  are  going  to  be 
very  uncomfortable,  then." 

"Great  changes  always  bring  small  discomforts,"  Wol- 
4 


50  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

fenden  rejoined.  "  But  after  all  I  didn't  come  here  to  talk 
nonsense.  I  came  to  ask  you  both  something.  I  want  to 
know  whether  you  fellows  are  bent  upon  seeing  this  thing 
through  ?  " 

Densham  and  Harcutt  exchanged  glances.  There  was  a 
moment's  silence.  Densham  became  spokesman. 

"  So  far  as  finding  out  who  they  are  and  all  about  them," 
he  said,  "  I  shall  not  rest  until  I  have  done  it." 

"  And  you,  Harcutt  ?  " 

Harcutt  nodded  gravely. 

"  I  am  with  Densham,"  he  said.  "  At  the  same  time  I 
may  as  well  tell  you  that  I  am  quite  as  much,  if  not  more, 
interested  in  the  man  than  in  the  girl.  The  girl  is  beautiful, 
and  of  course  I  admire  her,  as  every  one  must.  But  that  is 
all.  The  man  appeals  to  my  journalistic  instincts.  There 
is  copy  in  him.  I  am  convinced  that  he  is  a  personage. 
You  may,  in  fact,  regard  me,  both  of  you,  as  an  ally  rather 
than  as  a  rival." 

"  If  you  had  your  choice,  then,  of  an  hour's  conversa- 
tion with  either  of  them "  Wolfenden  began. 

"  I  should  choose  the  man  without  a  second's  hesitation," 
Harcutt  declared.  "  The  girl  is  lovely  enough,  I  admit.  I 
do  not  wonder  at  you  fellows — Densham,  who  is  a  wor- 
shipper of  beauty ;  you,  Wolfenden,  who  are  an  idler — being 
struck  with  her !  But  as  regards  myself  it  is  different. 
The  man  appeals  to  my  professional  instincts  in  very  much 
the  same  way  as  the  girl  appeals  to  the  artistic  sense  in 
Densham.  He  is  a  conundrum  which  I  have  set  myself  to 
solve." 

Wolfenden  rose  to  his  feet. 

"  Look  here,  you  fellows,"  he  said,  "  I  have  a  proposition 
to  make.  We  are  all  three  in  the  same  boat.  Shall  we  pull 
together  or  separately  ?  " 

Harcutt  dropped  his  eyeglass  and  smiled  quietly. 

"Quixotic  as  usual,  Wolf,  old   chap,"  he  said.      "We 


A  COMPACT  OF  THREE  51 

can't,  our  interests  are  opposed ;  at  least  yours  and  Dens- 
ham's  are.  You  will  scarcely  want  to  help  one  another 
under  the  circumstances." 

Wolfenden  drew  on  his  gloves. 

"  I  have  not  explained  myself  yet,"  he  said.  "  The  thing 
must  have  its  limitations,  of  course,  but  for  a  step  or  two 
even  Densham  and  I  can  walk  together.  Let  us  form  an 
alliance  so  far  as  direct  information  is  concerned.  After- 
wards it  must  be  every  man  for  himself,  of  course.  I 
suppose  we  each  have  some  idea  as  to  how  and  where  to 
set  about  making  inquiries  concerning  these  people.  Very 
well.  Let  us  each  go  our  own  way  and  share  up  the 
information  to-night." 

"  I  am  quite  willing,"  Densham  said,  "  only  let  this  be 
distinctly  understood — we  are  allies  only  so  far  as  the  collec- 
tion and  sharing  of  information  is  concerned.  Afterwards, 
and  in  other  ways,  it  is  each  man  for  himself.  If  one  of  us 
succeeds  in  establishing  a  definite  acquaintance  with  them, 
the  thing  ends.  There  is  no  need  for  either  of  us  to  do 
anything  with  regard  to  the  others,  which  might  militate 
against  his  own  chances." 

"  I  am  agreeable  to  that,"  Harcutt  said.  "  From  Den- 
sham's  very  elaborate  provisoes  I  think  we  may  gather  that 
he  has  a  plan." 

"  I  agree  too,"  Wolfenden  said,  "  and  I  specially  endorse 
Densham's  limit.  It  is  an  alliance  so  far  as  regards  in- 
formation only.  Suppose  we  go  and  have  some  lunch 
together  now." 

"  I  never  lunch  out,  and  I  have  a  better  idea,"  said 
Harcutt.  "  Let  us  meet  at  the  '  Milan '  to-night  for  supper 
at  the  same  time.  We  can  then  exchange  information, 
supposing  either  of  us  has  been  fortunate  enough  to  acquire 
any.  What  do  you  say,  Wolfenden  ?  " 

"  I  am  quite  willing,"  Wolfenden  said. 

"  And  I,"  echoed  Densham.  "  At  half-past  eleven, 
then,"  Harcutt  concluded. 


CHAPTER  VII 

WHO   IS   MR.   SABIN? 

MRS.  THORPE-SATCHELL  was  not  at  home  to  ordinary 
callers.  Nevertheless  when  a  discreet  servant  brought  her 
Mr.  Francis  Densham's  card  she  gave  orders  for  his  admit- 
tance without  hesitation. 

That  he  was  a  privileged  person  it  was  easy  to  see. 
Mrs.  Satchell  received  him  with  the  most  charming  of 
smiles. 

"  My  dear  Francis,"  she  exclaimed,/'  I  do  hope  that  you 
have  lost  that  wretched  headache  !  You  looked  perfectly 
miserable  last  night.  I  was  so  sorry  for  you." 

Densham  drew  an  easy  chair  to  her  side  and  accepted  a 
cup  of  tea. 

"  I  am  quite  well  again,"  he  said.  "  It  was  very  bad 
indeed  for  a  little  time,  but  it  did  not  last  long.  Still  I  felt 
that  it  made  me  so  utterly  stupid  that  I  was  half  afraid  you 
would  have  written  me  off  your  visitors'  list  altogether  as  a 
dull  person.  I  was  immensely  relieved  to  be  told  that  you 
were  at  home." 

Mrs.  Thorpe-Satchell  laughed  gaily.  She  was  a  bright, 
blonde  little  woman  with  an  exquisite  figure  and  piquante 
face.  She  had  a  husband  whom  no  one  knew,  and  gave 
excellent  parties  to  which  every  one  went.  In  her  way  she 
was  something  of  a  celebrity.  She  and  Densham  had 
known  each  other  for  many  years. 

"  I  am  not  sure,"  she  said,  "  that  you  did  not  deserve  it ; 
52 


WHO  IS  MR.  SAB  IN  f  53 

but  then,  you  see,  you  are  too  old  a  friend  to  be  so  sum- 
marily dealt  with." 

She  raised  her  blue  eyes  to  his  and  dropped  them,  smiling 
softly. 

Densham  looked  steadily  away  into  the  fire,  wondering 
how  to  broach  the  subject  which  had  so  suddenly  taken  the 
foremost  place  in  his  thoughts.  He  had  not  come  to  make 
even  the  idlest  of  love  this  afternoon.  The  time  when  he 
had  been  content  to  do  so  seemed  very  far  away  just  now. 
Somehow  this  dainty  little  woman  with  her  Watteau-like 
grace  and  delicate  mannerisms  had,  for  the  present,  at  any 
rate,  lost  all  her  attractiveness  for  him,  and  he  was  able  to 
meet  the  flash  of  her  bright  eyes  and  feel  the  touch  of  her 
soft  fingers  without  any  corresponding  thrill. 

"  You  are  very  good  to  me,"  he  said,  thoughtfully.  "  May 
I  have  some  more  tea  ?  " 

Now  Densham  was  no  strategist.  He  had  come  to  ask 
a  question,  and  he  was  dying  to  ask  it.  He  knew  very  well 
that  it  would  not  do  to  hurry  matters — that  he  must  put  it 
as  casually  as  possible  towards  the  close  of  his  visit.  But 
at  the  same  time,  the  period  of  probation,  during  which  he 
should  have  been  more  than  usually  entertaining,  was 
scarcely  a  success,  and  his  manner  was  restless  and  con- 
strained. Every  now  and  then  there  were  long  and 
unusual  pauses,  and  he  continuously  and  with  obvious  effort 
kept  bringing  back  the  conversation  to  the  reception  last 
night,  in  the  hope  that  some  remark  from  her  might  make 
the  way  easier  for  him.  But  nothing  of  the  sort  happened. 
The  reception  had  not  interested  her  in  the  slightest,  and 
she  had  nothing  to  say  about  it,  and  his  pre-occupation  at 
last  became  manifest.  She  looked  at  him  curiously  after 
one  of  those  awkward  pauses  to  which  she  was  quite  un- 
accustomed, and  his  thoughts  were  evidently  far  away.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  he  was  at  that  moment  actually  framing 
the  question  which  he  had  come  to  ask. 


54  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"  My  dear  Francis,"  she  said,  quietly,  "  why  don't  you 
tell  me  what  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  You  are  not  amusing. 
You  have  something  on  your  mind.  Is  it  anything  you 
wish  to  ask  of  me  ?  " 

"Yes,"  he  said,  boldly,  "I  have  come  to  ask  you  a 
favour." 

She  smiled  at  him  encouragingly. 

"  Well,  do  ask  it,"  she  said,  "  and  get  rid  of  your  woe- 
begone face.  You  ought  to  know  that  if  it  is  anything 
within  my  power  I  shall  not  hesitate." 

"  I  want,"  he  said,  "  to  paint  your  portrait  for  next  year's 
Academy." 

This  was  a  master  stroke.  To  have  Densham  paint  her 
picture  was  just  at  that  moment  the  height  of  Mrs.  Thorpe- 
Satchell's  ambition.  A  flush  of  pleasure  came  into  her 
cheeks,  and  her  eyes  were  very  bright. 

"Do  you  really  mean  it?"  she  exclaimed,  leaning  over 
towards  him.  "  Are  you  sure  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  mean  it,"  he  answered.  "  If  only  I  can 
do  you  justice,  I  think  it  ought  to  be  the  portrait  of  the 
year.  I  have  been  studying  you  for  a  long  time  in  an 
indefinite  sort  of  way,  and  I  think  that  I  have  some  good 
ideas." 

Mrs.  Thorpe-Satchell  laughed  softly.  Densham,  although 
not  a  great  artist,  was  the  most  fashionable  portrait  painter 
of  the  minute,  and  he  had  the  knack  of  giving  a  chic 
touch  to  his  women — of  investing  them  with  a  certain  style 
without  the  sacrifice  of  similitude.  He  refused  quite  as 
many  commissions  as  he  accepted,  and  he  could  scarcely 
have  flattered  Mrs.  Thorpe-Satchell  more  than  by  his 
request.  She  was  delightfully  amiable. 

"You  are  a  dear  old  thing,"  she  said,  beaming  upon 
him.  "What  shall  I  wear?  That  yellow  satin  gown  that 
you  like,  or  say  you  like,  so  much  ?  " 

He  discussed  the  question  with  her  gravely.     It  was  not 


WHO  IS  MR.  SABIN  f  55 

until  he  rose  to  go  that  he  actually  broached  the  question 
which  had  been  engrossing  all  his  thoughts. 

"  By  the  bye,"  he  said,  "  I  wanted  to  ask  you  something. 
You  know  Harcutt  ?  " 

She  nodded.  Of  course  she  knew  Harcutt.  Were  her 
first  suspicions  correct !  Had  he  some  other  reason  for  this 
visit  of  his  ? 

"Well,"  Densham  went  on,  "he  is  immensely  inte- 
rested in  some  people  who  were  at  that  stupid  reception 
last  night.  He  tried  to  get  an  introduction  but  he  couldn't 
find  any  one  who  knew  them,  and  he  doesn't  know  the 
Princess  well  enough  to  ask  her.  He  thought  that  he  saw 
you  speaking  to  the  man,  so  I  promised  that  when  I  saw 
you  I  would  ask  about  them." 

"  I  spoke  to  a  good  many  men,"  she  said.  "  What  is  his 
name  ?  " 

"  Sabin — Mr.  Sabin ;  and  there  is  a  girl,  his  daughter,  or 
niece,  I  suppose." 

Was  it  Densham's  fancy  or  had  she  indeed  turned  a 
shade  paler.  The  little  be-jewelled  hand,  which  had  been 
resting  close  to  his,  suddenly  buried  itself  in  the  cushions. 
Densham,  who  was  watching  her  closely,  was  conscious  of  a 
hardness  about  her  mouth  which  he  had  never  noticed 
before.  She  was  /silent  some  time  before  she  answered 
him. 

"  I  am  sorry,"  she  said,  slowly,  "  but  I  can  tell  you  scarcely 
anything  about  them.  I  only  met  him  once  in  India  many 
years  ago,  and  I  have  not  the  slightest  idea  as  to  who  he  is 
or  where  he  came  from.  I  am  quite  sure  that  I  should 
not  have  recollected  him  last  night  but  for  his  deformity." 

Densham  tried  very  hard  to  hide  his  disappointment. 

"  So  you  met  him  in  India,"  he  remarked.  "  Do  you 
know  what  he  was  doing  there  ?  He  was  not  in  the  service 
at  all,  I  suppose." 

"  I  really  do  not  know,"  she  answered,  "  but  I  think  not 


56  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

I  believe  that  he  is,  or  was,  very  wealthy.  I  remember  hear- 
ing a  few  things  about  him — nothing  of  much  importance. 
But  if  Mr.  Harcutt  is  your  friend,"  she  added,  looking  at 
him  fixedly,  "you  can  give  him  some  excellent  advice." 

"Harcutt  is  a  very  decent  fellow,"  Densham  said,  "and 
I  know  that  he  will  be  glad  of  it." 

"Tell  him  to  have  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  Mr. 
Sabin." 

Densham  looked  at  her  keenly. 

"Then  you  do  know  something  about  him,"  he  ex- 
claimed. 

She  moved  her  chair  back  a  little  to  where  the  light  no 
longer  played  upon  her  face,  and  she  answered  him  with- 
out looking  up. 

"  Very  little.  It  was  so  long  ago  and  my  memory  is  not 
what  it  used  to  be.  Never  mind  that.  The  advice  is  good 
anyhow.  If,"  she  continued,  looking  steadily  up  at  Densham, 
"if  it  were  not  Mr.  Harcutt  who  was  interested  in  these  people, 
if  it  were  any  one,  Francis,  for  whose  welfare  I  had  a  greater 
care,  who  was  really  my  friend,  I  would  make  that  advice, 
if  I  could,  a  thousand  times  stronger.  I  would  implore 
him  to  have  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  this  man  or  any 
of  his  creatures." 

Densham  laughed — not  very  easily.  His  disappointment 
was  great,  but  his  interest  was  stimulated. 

"  At  any  rate,"  he  said,  "  the  girl  is  harmless.  She  can- 
not have  left  school  a  year." 

"  A  year  with  that  man,"  she  answered,  bitterly,  "  is  a 
liberal  education  in  corruption.  Don't  misunderstand  me. 
I  have  no  personal  grievance  against  him.  We  have  never 
come  together,  thank  God !  But  there  were  stories — I 
cannot  remember  them  now — I  do  not  wish  to  remember 
them,  but  the  impression  they  made  still  remains.  If  a 
little  of  what  people  said  about  him  is  true  he  is  a  prince  of 
wickedness." 


WHO  IS  MR.  SABIN  f  57 

"The  girl  herself ?" 

"  I  know  nothing  of,"  she  admitted. 

Densham  determined  upon  a  bold  stroke. 

"  Look  here,"  he  said,  "  do  me  this  favour — you  shall 
never  regret  it.  You  and  the  Princess  are  intimate,  I  know  : 
order  your  carriage  and  go  and  see  her  this  afternoon.  Ask 
her  what  she  knows  about  that  girl.  Get  her  to  tell  you 
everything.  Then  let  me  know.  Don't  ask  me  to  explain 
just  now — simply  remember  that  we  are  old  friends  and  that 
I  ask  you  to  do  this  thing  for  me." 

She  rang  the  bell. 

"  My  victoria  at  once,"  she  told  the  servant.  Then  she 
turned  to  Densham.  "  I  will  do  exactly  what  you  ask,"  she 
said.  "  You  can  come  with  me  and  wait  while  I  see  the 
Princess — if  she  is  at  home.  You  see  I  am  doing  for  you 
what  I  would  do  for  no  one  else  in  the  world.  Don't 
trouble  about  thanking  me  now.  Do  you  mind  waiting 
while  I  get  my  things  on?  I  shall  only  be  a  minute  or 
two." 

Her  minute  or  two  was  half  an  hour.  Densham  waited 
impatiently.  He  scarcely  knew  whether  to  be  satisfied 
with  the  result  of  his  mission  or  not.  He  had  learnt  a  very 
little — he  was  probably  going  to  learn  a  little  more,  but  he 
was  quite  aware  that  he  had  not  conducted  the  negotiations 
with  any  particular  skill,  and  the  bribe  which  he  had  offered 
was  a  heavy  one.  He  was  still  uncertain  about  it  when  Mrs. 
Thorpe-Satchell  reappeared.  She  had  changed  her  indoor 
gown  for  a  soft  petunia-coloured  costume  trimmed  with 
sable,  and  she  held  out  her  hands  towards  him  with  a 
delightful  smile. 

"Celeste  is  wretchedly  awkward  with  gloves,"  she  said, 
"  so  I  have  left  them  for  you.  Do  you  like  my  gown  ?  " 

"You  look  charming,"  he  said,  bending  over  his  task, 
"  and  you  know  it." 

"  I  always  wear  my  smartest  clothes  when  I  am  going  to 


58  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

see  my  particular  friends,"  she  declared.  "They  quiz  one 
so !  Besides,  I  do  not  always  have  an  escort !  Come !  " 

She  talked  to  him  gaily  on  the  stairs,  as  he  handed  her 
into  the  carriage,  and  all  the  way  to  their  destination,  yet 
he  was  conscious  all  the  time  of  a  subtle  change  in  her 
demeanour  towards  him.  She  was  a  proud  little  woman,  and 
she  had  received  a  shock.  Densham  was  making  use  of 
her — Densham,  of  all  men,  was  making  use  of  her,  of  all 
women.  He  had  been  perfectly  correct  in  those  vague 
fears  of  his.  She  did  not  believe  that  he  had  come  to  her 
for  his  friend's  sake.  She  never  doubted  but  that  it  was  he 
himself  who  was  interested  in  this  girl,  and  she  looked  upon 
his  visit  and  his  request  to  her  as  something  very  nearly 
approaching  brutality.  He  must  be  interested  in  the  girl, 
very  deeply  interested,  or  he  would  never  have  resorted  to 
such  means  of  gaining  information  about  her.  She  was 
suddenly  silent  and  turned  a  little  pale  as  the  carriage 
turned  into  the  square.  Her  errand  was  not  a  pleasant  one 
to  her. 

Densham  was  left  alone  in  the  carriage  for  nearly  an 
hour.  He  was  impatient,  and  yet  her  prolonged  absence 
pleased  him.  She  had  found  the  Princess  in,  she  would 
bring  him  the  information  he  desired.  He  sat  gazing  idly 
into  the  faces  of  the  passers-by  with  his  thoughts  very  far 
away.  How  that  girl's  face  had  taken  hold  of  his  fancy ; 
had  excited  in  some  strange  way  his  whole  artistic  tempera- 
ment !  She  was  the  exquisite  embodiment  of  a  new  type  of 
girlhood,  from  which  was  excluded  all  that  was  crude  and 
unpleasing  and  unfinished.  She  seemed  to  him  to  combine 
in  some  mysterious  manner  all  the  dainty  freshness  of 
youth  with  the  delicate  grace  and  savoir  faire  of  a 
Frenchwoman  of  the  best  period.  He  scarcely  fancied 
himself  in  love  with  her;  at  any  rate  if  it  had  been  suggested 
to  him  he  would  have  denied  it.  Her  beauty  had  certainly 
taken  a  singular  hold  of  him.  His  imagination  was  touched. 


WHO  IS  MR.  SABINt  59 

He  was  immensely  attracted,  but  as  to  anything  serious — 
well,  he  would  not  have  admitted  it  even  to  himself. 
Liberty  meant  so  much  to  him,  he  had  told  himself  over 
and  over  again  that,  for  many  years  at  least,  his  art  must  be 
his  sole  mistress.  Besides,  he  was  no  boy  to  lose  his  heart, 
as  certainly  Wolfenden  had  done,  to  a  girl  with  whom  he 
had  never  even  spoken.  It  was  ridiculous,  and  yet 

A  soft  voice  in  his  ear  suddenly  recalled  him  to  the 
present.  Mrs.  Thorpe-Satchell  was  standing  upon  the 
pavement.  The  slight  pallor  had  gone  from  her  cheeks 
and  the  light  had  come  back  to  her  eyes.  He  looked  at 
her,  irresistibly  attracted.  She  had  never  appeared  more 
charming. 

She  stepped  into  the  carriage,  and  the  soft  folds  of  her 
gown  spread  themselves  out  over  the  cushions.  She  drew 
them  on  one  side  to  make  room  for  him. 

"  Come,"  she  said,  "  let  us  have  one  turn  in  the  Park.  It 
is  quite  early,  although  I  am  afraid  that  I  have  been  a  very 
long  time." 

He  stepped  in  at  once  and  they  drove  off.  Mrs.  Thorpe- 
Satchell  laughingly  repeated  some  story  which  the  Princess 
had  just  told  her.  Evidently  she  was  in  high  spirits.  The 
strained  look  had  gone  from  her  face.  Her  gaiety  was  no 
longer  forced. 

"  You  want  to  know  the  result  of  my  mission,  I  suppose," 
she  remarked,  pleasantly.  "  Well,  I  am  afraid  you  will  call 
it  a  failure.  The  moment  I  mentioned  the  man's  name  the 
Princess  stopped  me." 

"'You  mustn't  talk  to  me  about  that  man,'  she  said. 
'  Don't  ask  why,  only  you  must  not  talk  about  him.' 

"  '  I  don't  want  to,'  I  assured  her ;  '  but  the  girl.' " 

"  What  did  she  say  about  the  girl  ?  "  Densham  asked. 

"  Well  she  did  tell  me  something  about  her,"  Mrs.  Thorpe- 
Satchell  said,  slowly,  "  but,  unfortunately,  it  will  not  help 
your  friend.  She  only  told  me  when  I  had  promised  un- 


60  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

conditionally  and  upon  my  honour  to  keep  her  information 
a  profound  secret.  So  I  am  sorry,  Francis,  but  even  to 
you " 

"Of  course,  you  must  not  repeat  it,"  Densham  said, 
hastily.  "  I  would  not  ask  you  for  the  world  ;  but  is  there 
not  a  single  scrap  of  information  about  the  man  or  the  girl, 
who  he  is,  what  he  is,  of  what  family  or  nationality  the 
girl  is — anything  at  all  which  I  can  take  to  Harcutt  ?  " 

Mrs.  Thorpe-Satchell  looked  straight  at  him  with  a  faint 
smile  at  the  corners  of  her  lips. 

"  Yes,  there  is  one  thing  which  you  can  tell  Mr.  Harcutt," 
she  said. 

Densham  drew  a  little  breath.     At  last,  then ! 

"You  can  tell  him  this,"  Mrs.  Thorpe-Satchell  said, 
slowly  and  impressively,  "  that  if  it  is  the  girl,  as  I  suppose 
it  is,  in  whom  he  is  interested,  that  the  very  best  thing  he 
can  do  is  to  forget  that  he  has  ever  seen  her.  I  cannot 
tell  you  who  she  is  or  what,  although  I  know.  But  we  are 
old  friends,  Francis,  and  I  know  that  my  word  will  be 
sufficient  for  you.  You  can  take  this  from  me  as  the 
solemn  truth.  Your  friend  had  better  hope  for  the  love  of 
the  Sphinx,  or  fix  his  heart  upon  the  statue  of  Diana,  as 
think  of  that  girl." 

Densham  was  looking  straight  ahead  along  the  stream  ot 
vehicles.  His  eyes  were  set,  but  he  saw  nothing.  He  did 
not  doubt  her  word  for  a  moment.  He  knew  that  she  had 
spoken  the  truth.  The  atmosphere  seemed  suddenly  grey 
and  sunless.  He  shivered  a  little — he  was  positively 
chilled.  Just  for  a  moment  he  saw  the  girl's  face,  heard 
the  swirl  of  her  skirts  as  she  had  passed  their  table  and  the 
sound  of  her  voice  as  she  had  bent  over  the  great  cluster  of 
white  roses  whose  faint  perfume  reached  even  to  where  they 
were  sitting.  Then  he  half  closed  his  eyes.  He  had  come 
very  near  making  a  terrible  mistake. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said.     "  I  will  tell  Harcutt." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

A   MEETING   IN    BOND   STREET 

WOLFENDEN  returned  to  his  rooms  to  lunch,  intending  to 
go  round  to  see  his  last  night's  visitor  immediately  after- 
wards. He  had  scarcely  taken  off  his  coat,  however,  before 
Selby  met  him  in  the  hall,  a  note  in  his  hand. 

"  From  the  young  lady,  my  lord,"  he  announced.  "  My 
wife  has  just  sent  it  round." 

Wolfenden  tore  the  envelope  open  and  read  it. 

"  Thursday  morning. 

"DEAR  LORD  WOLFENDEN, — Of  course  I  made  a  mis- 
take in  coming  to  you  last  night.  I  am  very  sorry  indeed 
— more  sorry  than  you  will  ever  know.  A  woman  does 
not  forget  these  things  readily,  and  the  lesson  you  have 
taught  me  it  will  not  be  difficult  for  me  to  remember  all  my 
life.  I  cannot  consent  to  remain  your  debtor,  and  I  am 
leaving  here  at  once.  I  shall  have  gone  long  before  you 
receive  this  note.  Do  not  try  to  find  me.  I  shall  not  want 
for  friends  if  I  choose  to  seek  them.  Apart  from  this,  I  do 
not  want  to  see  you  again.  I  mean  it,  and  I  trust  to  your 
honour  to  respect  my  wishes.  I  think  that  I  may  at  least 
ask  you  to  grant  me  this  for  the  sake  of  those  days  at 
Deringham,  which  it  is  now  my  fervent  wish  to  utterly 
forget. — I  am,  yours  sincerely, 

"BLANCHE  MERTON." 

61 


62  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"The  young  lady,  my  lord,"  Selby  remarked,  "left  early 
this  morning.  She  expressed  herself  as  altogether  satisfied 
with  the  attention  she  had  received,  but  she  had  decided  to 
make  other  arrangements." 

Wolfenden  nodded,  and  walked  into  his  dining-room  with 
the  note  crushed  up  in  his  hand. 

"  For  the  sake  of  those  days  at  Deringham,"  he  repeated 
softly  to  himself.  Was  the  girl  a  fool,  or  only  an  adven- 
turess? It  was  true  that  there  had  been  something  like 
a  very  mild  flirtation  between  them  at  Deringham,  but  it 
had  been  altogether  harmless,  and  certainly  more  of  her 
seeking  than  his.  They  had  met  in  the  grounds  once  or 
twice  and  walked  together;  he  had  talked  to  her  a  little 
after  dinner,  feeling  a  certain  sympathy  for  her  isolation, 
and  perhaps  a  little  admiration  for  her  undoubted  pretti- 
ness ;  yet  all  the  time  he  had  had  a  slightly  uneasy  feeling 
with  regard  to  her.  Her  ingenuousness  had  become  a 
matter  of  doubt  to  him.  It  was  so  now  more  than  ever, 
yet  he  could  not  understand  her  going  away  like  this  and 
the  tone  of  her  note.  So  far  as  he  was  concerned,  it  was 
the  most  satisfactory  thing  that  could  have  happened.  It 
relieved  him  of  a  responsibility  which  he  scarcely  knew 
how  to  deal  with.  In  the  face  of  her  dismissal  from 
Deringham,  any  assistance  which  she  might  have  accepted 
from  him  would  naturally  have  been  open  to  misapprehen- 
sion. But  that  she  should  have  gone  away  and  have 
written  to  him  in  such  a  strain  was  directly  contrary  to  his 
anticipations.  Unless  she  was  really  hurt  and  disappointed 
by  his  reception  of  her,  he  could  not  see  what  she  had  to 
gain  by  it.  He  was  puzzled  a  little,  but  his  thoughts  were 
too  deeply  engrossed  elsewhere  for  him  to  take  her  dis- 
appearance very  seriously.  By  the  time  he  had  finished 
lunch  he  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  what  had  hap- 
pened was  for  the  best,  and  that  he  would  take  her  at  her 
word. 


A  MEETING  IN  BOND  STREET  63 

He  left  his  rooms  again  about  three  o'clock,  and  at  pre- 
cisely the  hour  at  which  Densham  had  rung  the  bell  of 
Mrs.  Thorpe-SatchelPs  house  in  Mayfair  he  experienced 
a  very  great  piece  of  good  fortune. 

Coming  out  of  Scott's,  where  more  from  habit  than 
necessity  he  had  turned  in  to  have  his  hat  ironed,  he  came 
face  to  face,  a  few  yards  up  Bond  Street,  with  the  two 
people  whom,  more  than  any  one  else  in  the  world,  he  had 
desired  to  meet.  They  were  walking  together,  the  girl 
talking,  the  man  listening  with  an  air  of  half-amused 
deference.  Suddenly  she  broke  off  and  welcomed  Wolf- 
enden  with  a  delightful  smile  of  recognition.  The  man 
looked  up  quickly.  Wolfenden  was  standing  before  them 
on  the  pavement,  hat  in  hand,  his  pleasure  at  this  unex- 
pected meeting  very  plainly  evidenced  in  his  face.  Mr. 
Sabin's  greeting,  if  devoid  of  any  special  cordiality,  was 
courteous  and  even  genial.  Wolfenden  never  quite  knew 
whence  he  got  the  impression,  which  certainly  came  to  him 
with  all  the  strength  and  absoluteness  of  an  original  inspira- 
tion, that  this  encounter  was  not  altogether  pleasant  to  him. 

"  How  strange  that  we  should  meet  you ! "  the  girl  said. 
"  Do  you  know  that  this  is  the  first  walk  that  I  have  ever 
had  in  London  ? " 

She  spoke  rather  softly  and  rather  slowly.  Her  voice 
possessed  a  sibilant  and  musical  intonation ;  there  was 
perhaps  the  faintest  suggestion  of  an  accent.  As  she  stood 
there  smiling  upon  him  in  a  deep  blue  gown,  trimmed  with 
a  silvery  fur,  in  the  making  of  which  no  English  dressmaker 
had  been  concerned,  Wolfenden's  subjection  was  absolute 
and  complete.  He  was  aware  that  his  answer  was  a  little 
flurried.  He  was  less  at  his  ease  than  he  could  have 
wished.  Afterwards  he  thought  of  a  hundred  things  he 
would  have  liked  to  have  said,  but  the  surprise  of  seeing 
them  so  suddenly  had  cost  him  a  little  of  his  usual  self- 
possession.  Mr.  Sabin  took  up  the  conversation. 


64  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"My  infirmity,"  he  said,  glancing  downwards,  "makes 
walking,  especially  on  stone  pavements,  rather  a  painful 
undertaking.  However,  London  is  one  of  those  cities 
which  can  only  be  seen  on  foot,  and  my  niece  has  all  the 
curiosity  of  her  age." 

She  laughed  out  frankly.  She  wore  no  veil,  and  a  tinge 
of  colour  had  found  its  way  into  her  cheeks,  relieving  that 
delicate  but  not  unhealthy  pallor,  which  to  Densham  had 
seemed  so  exquisite. 

"I  think  shopping  is  delightful.  Is  it  not?"  she  ex- 
claimed. 

Wolfenden  was  absolutely  sure  of  it.  He  was,  indeed, 
needlessly  emphatic.  Mr.  Sabin  smiled  faintly. 

"  I  am  glad  to  have  met  you  again,  Lord  Wolfenden,"  he 
said,  "  if  only  to  thank  you  for  your  aid  last  night.  I  was 
anxious  to  get  away  before  any  fuss  was  made,  or  I  would 
have  expressed  my  gratitude  at  the  time  in  a  more  seemly 
fashion." 

"  I  hope,"  Wolfenden  said,  "  that  you  will  not  think  it 
necessary  to  say  anything  more  about  it.  I  did  what  any 
one  in  my  place  would  have  done  without  a  moment's 
hesitation." 

"  I  am  not  quite  so  sure  of  that,"  Mr.  Sabin  said.  "  But 
by  the  bye,  can  you  tell  me  what  became  of  the  fellow  ? 
Did  any  one  go  after  him?" 

"  There  was  some  sort  of  pursuit,  I  believe,"  Wolfenden 
said  slowly,  "  but  he  was  not  caught." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,"  Mr.  Sabin  said. 

Wolfenden  looked  at  him  in  some  surprise.  He  could 
not  make  up  his  mind  whether  it  was  his  duty  to  dis- 
close the  name  of  the  man  who  had  made  this  strange 
attempt. 

"  Your  assailant  was,  I  suppose,  a  stranger  to  you  ?  "  he 
said  slowly. 

Mr.  Sabin  shook  his  head. 


A  MEETING  IN  BOND  STREET  65 

"By  no  means.  I  recognised  him  directly.  So,  I 
believe,  did  you." 

Wolfenden  was  honestly  amazed. 

"He  was  your  guest,  I  believe,"  Mr.  Sabin  continued, 
"until  I  entered  the  room.  I  saw  him  leave,  and  I  was 
half-prepared  for  something  of  the  sort." 

"  He  was  my  guest,  it  is  true,  but  none  the  less,  he  was 
a  stranger  to  me,"  Wolfenden  explained.  "He  brought 
a  letter  from  my  cousin,  who  seems  to  have  considered 
him  a  decent  sort  of  fellow." 

"There  is,"  Mr.  Sabin  said  dryly,  "nothing  whatever 
the  matter  with  him,  except  that  he  is  mad." 

"  On  the  whole,  I  cannot  say  that  I  am  surprised  to  hear 
it,"  Wolfenden  remarked ;  "  but  I  certainly  think  that,  con- 
sidering the  form  his  madness  takes,  you  ought  to  protect 
yourself  in  some  way." 

Mr.  Sabin  shrugged  his  shoulders  contemptuously. 

"He  can  never  hurt  me.  I  carry  a  talisman  which  is 
proof  against  any  attempt  that  he  can  make ;  but  none  the 
less,  I  must  confess  that  your  aid  last  night  was  very 
welcome." 

"  I  was  very  pleased  to  be  of  any  service,"  Wolfenden 
said,  "especially,"  he  added,  glancing  toward  Mr.  Sabin's 
niece,  "  since  it  has  given  me  the  pleasure  of  your  acquaint- 
ance." 

A  little  thrill  passed  through  him.  Her  delicately- 
curved  lips  were  quivering  as  though  with  amusement, 
and  her  eyes  had  fallen;  she  had  blushed  slightly  at  that 
unwitting,  ardent  look  of  his.  Mr.  Sabin's  cold  voice 
recalled  him  to  himself. 

"I  believe,"  he  said,  "that  I  overheard  your  name 
correctly.  It  is  Wolfenden,  is  it  not?" 

Wolfenden  assented. 

"  I  am  sorry  that  I  haven't  a  card,"  he  said.  "  That  is 
my  name." 

5 


66  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

Mr.  Sabin  looked  at  him  curiously. 

"Wolfenden  is,  I  believe,  the  family  name  of  the 
Deringhams  ?  May  I  ask,  are  you  any  relation  to  Admiral 
Lord  Deringham  ?  " 

Wolfenden  was  suddenly  grave. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered ;  "  he  is  my  father.  Did  you  ever 
meet  him?" 

Mr.  Sabin  shook  his  head. 

"  No,  I  have  heard  of  him  abroad ;  also,  I  believe,  of  the 
Countess  of  Deringham,  your  mother.  It  is  many  years 
ago.  I  trust  that  I  have  not  inadvertently " 

"  Not  at  all,"  Wolfenden  declared.  "  My  father  is  still 
alive,  although  he  is  in  very  delicate  health.  I  wonder, 
would  you  and  your  niece  do  me  the  honour  of  having 
some  tea  with  me  ?  It  is  Ladies'  Day  at  the  '  Geranium 
Club,'  and  I  should  be  delighted  to  take  you  there  if  you 
would  allow  me." 

Mr.  Sabin  shook  his  head. 

Wolfenden  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  girl  look 
disappointed. 

"We  are  very  much  obliged  to  you,"  Mr.  Sabin  said, 
"but  I  have  an  appointment  which  is  already  overdue. 
You  must  not  mind,  Helene,  if  we  ride  the  rest  of  the 
way." 

He  turned  and  hailed  a  passing  hansom,  which  drew  up 
immediately  at  the  kerb  by  their  side.  Mr.  Sabin  handed 
his  niece  in,  and  stood  for  a  moment  on  the  pavement  with 
Wolfenden. 

"I  hope  that  we  may  meet  again  before  long,  Lord 
Wolfenden,"  he  said.  "  In  the  meantime  let  me  assure 
you  once  more  of  my  sincere  gratitude." 

The  girl  leaned  forward  over  the  apron  of  the  cab. 

"  And  may  I  not  add  mine  too  ?  "  she  said.  "  I  almost 
wish  that  we  were  not  going  to  the  '  Milan '  again  to-night. 
I  am  afraid  that  I  shall  be  nervous." 


A  MEETING  IN  BOND  STREET  67 

She  looked  straight  at  Wolfenden.  He  was  ridiculously 
happy. 

"  I  can  promise,"  he  said,  "  that  no  harm  shall  come  to 
Mr.  Sabin  to-night,  at  any  rate.  I  shall  be  at  the  '  Milan ' 
myself,  and  I  will  keep  a  very  close  look  out." 

"  How  reassuring ! "  she  exclaimed,  with  a  brilliant  smile. 
"  Lord  Wolfenden  is  going  to  be  at  the  '  Milan '  to-night," 
she  added,  turning  to  Mr.  Sabin.  "  Why  don't  you  ask 
him  to  join  us  ?  I  shall  feel  so  much  more  comfortable." 

There  was  a  faint  but  distinct  frown  on  Mr.  Sabin's  face 
— a  distinct  hesitation  before  he  spoke.  But  Wolfenden 
would  notice  neither.  He  was  looking  over  Mr.  Sabin's 
shoulder,  and  his  instructions  were  very  clear. 

"If  you  will  have  supper  with  us  we  shall  be  very 
pleased,"  Mr.  Sabin  said  stiffly ;  "  but  no  doubt  you  have 
already  made  your  party.  Supper  is  an  institution  which 
one  seldom  contemplates  alone." 

"  I  am  quite  free,  and  I  shall  be  delighted,"  Wolfenden 
said  without  hesitation.  "  About  eleven,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  A  quarter  past,"  Mr.  Sabin  said,  stepping  into  the  cab. 
"  We  may  go  to  the  theatre." 

The  hansom  drove  off,  and  Wolfenden  stood  on  the 
pavement,  hat  in  hand.  What  fortune  !  He  could  scarcely 
believe  in  it.  Then,  just  as  he  turned  to  move  on,  some- 
thing lying  at  his  feet  almost  at  the  edge  of  the  kerbstone 
attracted  his  attention.  He  looked  at  it  more  closely.  It 
was  a  ribbon — a  little  delicate  strip  of  deep  blue  ribbon. 
He  knew  quite  well  whence  it  must  have  come.  It  had 
fallen  from  her  gown  as  she  had  stepped  into  the  hansom. 
He  looked  up  and  down  the  street.  It  was  full,  but  he  saw 
no  one  whom  he  knew.  The  thing  could  be  done  in  a 
minute.  He  stooped  quickly  down  and  picked  it  up 
crushing  it  in  his  gloved  hand,  and  walking  on  at  once 
with  heightened  colour  and  a  general  sense  of  having  made 
a  fool  of  himself.  For  a  moment  or  two  he  was  especially 


68  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIM 

careful  to  look  neither  to  the  right  or  to  the  left;  then 
a  sense  that  some  one  from  the  other  side  of  the  road  was 
watching  him  drew  his  eyes  in  that  direction.  A  young 
man  was  standing  upon  the  edge  of  the  pavement,  a 
peculiar  smile  parting  his  lips  and  a  cigarette  between  his 
fingers.  For  a  moment  Wolfenden  was  furiously  angry ; 
then  the  eyes  of  the  two  men  met  across  the  street,  and 
Wolfenden  forgot  his  anger.  He  recognised  him  at  once, 
notwithstanding  his  appearance  in  an  afternoon  toilette  as 
carefully  chosen  as  his  own.  It  was  Felix,  Mr.  Sabin's 
assailant. 


CHAPTER   IX 

THE   SHADOWS   THAT   GO   BEFORE 

WOLFENDEN  forgot  his  anger  at  once.  He  hesitated  for  a 
moment,  then  he  crossed  the  street  and  stood  -side  by  side 
with  Felix  upon  the  pavement. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  that  you  are  looking  a  sane  man 
again,"  Wolfenden  said,  after  they  had  exchanged  the  usual 
greetings.  "  You  might  have  been  in  a  much  more  un- 
comfortable place,  after  your  last  night's  escapade." 

Felix  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  I  think,"  he  said,  "  that  if  I  had  succeeded  a  little  dis- 
comfort would  only  have  amused  me.  It  is  not  pleasant 
to  fail." 

Wolfenden  stood  squarely  upon  his  feet,  and  laid  his 
hand  lightly  upon  the  other's  shoulder. 

"  Look  here,"  he  said,  "  it  won't  do  for  you  to  go  follow- 
ing a  man  about  London  like  this,  watching  for  an  oppor- 
tunity to  murder  him.  I  don't  like  interfering  in  other 
people's  business,  but  willingly  or  unwillingly  I  seem  to 
have  got  mixed  up  in  this,  and  I  have  a  word  or  two  to 
say  about  it.  Unless  you  give  me  your  promise,  upon 
your  honour,  to  make  no  further  attempt  upon  that  man's 
life,  I  shall  go  to  the  police,  tell  them  what  I  know,  and 
have  you  watched." 

"  You  shall  have,"  Felix  said  quietly,  "  my  promise.  A 
greater  power  than  the  threat  of  your  English  police  has  tied 
my  hands ;  for  the  present  I  have  abandoned  my  purpose." 

69 


70  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"I  am  bound  to  believe  you,"  Wolfenden  said,  "and 
you  look  as  though  you  were  speaking  the  truth ;  yet  you 
must  forgive  my  asking  why,  in  that  case,  you  are  following 
the  man  about  ?  You  must  have  a  motive." 

Felix  shook  his  head. 

"As  it  happened,"  he  said,  "I  am  here  by  the  merest 
accident.  It  may  seem  strange  to  you,  but  it  is  perfectly 
true.  I  have  just  come  out  of  Waldorf's,  above  there, 
and  I  saw  you  all  three  upon  the  pavement." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,"  Wolfenden  said. 

"More  glad,"  Felix  said,  "than  I  was  to  see  you  with 
them.  Can  you  not  believe  what  I  tell  you  ?  shall  I  give  you 
proof?  will  you  be  convinced  then?  Every  moment  you 
spend  with  that  man  is  an  evil  one  for  you.  You  may  have 
thought  me  inclined  to  be  melodramatic  last  night.  Perhaps 
I  was !  All  the  same  the  man  is  a  fiend.  Will  you  not  be 
warned  ?  I  tell  you  that  he  is  a  fiend." 

"  Perhaps  he  is,"  Wolfenden  said  indifferently.  "  I  am 
not  interested  in  him." 

"  But  you  are  interested — in  his  companion." 

Wolfenden  frowned. 

"  I  think,"  he  said,  "  that  we  will  leave  the  lady  out  of 
the  conversation." 

Felix  sighed. 

"You  are  a  good  fellow,"  he  said;  "but,  forgive  me, 
like  all  your  countrymen,  you  carry  chivalry  just  a  thought 
too  far — even  to  simplicity.  You  do  not  understand  such 
people  and  their  ways." 

Wolfenden  was  getting  angry,  but  he  held  himself  in 
check. 

"  You  know  nothing  against  her,"  he  said  slowly. 

"  It  is  true,"  Felix  answered.  "  I  know  nothing  against 
her.  It  is  not  necessary.  She  is  his  creature.  That  is 
apparent.  The  shadow  of  his  wickedness  is  enough." 

Wolfenden  checked  himself  in  the  middle  of  a  hot  reply. 


THE  SHADOWS  THAT  GO  BEFORE  71 

He  was  suddenly  conscious  of  the  absurdity  of  losing  his 
temper  in  the  open  street  with  a  man  so  obviously  ill- 
balanced — possessed,  too,  of  such  strange  and  wild  im- 
pulses. 

"  Let  us  talk,"  he  said,  "  of  something  else,  or  say  good- 
morning.  Which  way  were  you  going  ?  " 

"  To  the  Russian  Embassy,"  Felix  said.  "  I  have  some 
work  to  do  this  afternoon  " 

Wolfenden  looked  at  him  curiously. 

"  Our  ways,  then,  are  the  same  for  a  short  distance,"  he 
said.  "Let  us  walk  together.  Forgive  me,  but  you  are 
really,  then,  attached  to  the  Embassy?" 

Felix  nodded,  and  glanced  at  his  companion  with  a  smile. 

"  I  am  not  what  you  call  a  fraud  altogether,"  he  said.  "  I 
am  junior  secretary  to  Prince  Lobenski.  You,  I  think,  are 
not  a  politician,  are  you  ?  " 

Wolfenden  shook  his  head. 

"I  take  no  interest  in  politics,"  he  said.  "I  shall 
probably  have  to  sit  in  the  House  of  Lords  some  day, 
but  I  shall  be  sorry  indeed  when  the  time  comes." 

Felix  sighed,  and  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

"You  are  perhaps  fortunate,"  he  said.  "The  ways  of 
the  politician  are  not  exactly  rose-strewn.  You  represent 
a  class  which  in  my  country  does  not  exist.  There  we  are 
all  either  in  the  army,  or  interested  in  statecraft.  Perhaps 
the  secure  position  of  your  country  does  not  require  such 
ardent  service  ? 

"  You  are — of  what  nationality,  may  I  ask  ?  "  Wolfenden 
inquired. 

Felix  hesitated. 

"Perhaps,"  he  said,  "you  had  better  not  know.  The 
less  you  know  of  me  the  better.  The  time  may  come  when 
it  will  be  to  your  benefit  to  be  ignorant." 

Wolfenden  took  no  pains  to  hide  his  incredulity. 

"  It  is  easy  to  see  that  you  are  a  stranger  in  this  country," 


72  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

he  remarked.  "  We  are  not  in  Russia  or  in  South  America. 
I  can  assure  you  that  we  scarcely  know  the  meaning  of  the 
word  '  intrigue '  here.  We  are  the  most  matter-of-fact  and 
perhaps  the  most  commonplace  nation  in  the  world.  You 
will  find  it  out  for  yourself  in  time.  Whilst  you  are  with  us 
you  must  perforce  fall  to  our  level." 

"  I,  too,  must  become  commonplace,"  Felix  said,  smiling. 
"  Is  that  what  you  mean  ?  " 

"  In  a  certain  sense,  yes,"  Wolfenden  answered.  "  You  will 
not  be  able  to  help  it.  It  will  be  the  natural  result  of  your 
environment.  In  your  own  country,  wherever  that  may 
be,  I  can  imagine  that  you  might  be  a  person  jealously 
watched  by  the  police ;  your  comings  and  goings  made  a 
note  of;  your  intrigues — I  take  it  for  granted  that  you  are 
concerned  in  some — the  object  of  the  most  jealous  and 
unceasing  suspicion.  Here  there  is  nothing  of  that.  You 
could  not  intrigue  if  you  wanted  to.  There  is  nothing  to 
intrigue  about." 

They  were  crossing  a  crowded  thoroughfare,  and  Felix 
did  not  reply  until  they  were  safe  on  the  opposite  pavement. 
Then  he  took  Wolfenden's  arm,  and,  leaning  over,  almost 
whispered  in  his  ear — 

"  You  speak,"  he  said,  "  what  nine-tenths  of  your  country- 
men believe.  Yet  you  are  wrong.  Wherever  there  are 
international  questions  which  bring  great  powers  such  as 
yours  into  antagonism,  or  the  reverse,  with  other  great 
countries,  the  soil  is  laid  ready  for  intrigue,  and  the  seed 
is  never  long  wanted.  Yes ;  I  know  that,  to  all  appearance, 
you  are  the  smuggest  and  most  respectable  nation  ever 
evolved  in  this  world's  history.  Yet  if  you  tell  me  that 
your's  is  a  nation  free  from  intrigue,  I  correct  you ;  you  are 
wrong,  you  do  not  know — that  is  all !  That  very  man, 
whose  life  last  night  you  so  inopportunely  saved,  is  at 
this  moment  deeply  involved  in  an  intrigue  against  your 
country." 


THE  SHADOWS  THAT  GO  BEFORE  73 

"  Mr.  Sabin  ! "  Wolfenden  exclaimed. 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Sabin !  Mind,  I  know  this  by  chance  only. 
I  am  not  concerned  one  way  or  the  other.  My  quarrel 
with  him  is  a  private  one.  I  am  robbed  for  the  present  of 
my  vengeance  by  a  power  to  which  I  am  forced  to  yield 
implicit  obedience.  So,  for  the  present,  I  have  forgotten 
that  he  is  my  enemy.  He  is  safe  from  me,  yet  if  last  night 
I  had  struck  home,  I  should  have  ridded  your  country  of 
a  great  and  menacing  danger.  Perhaps — who  can  tell — he 
is  a  man  who  succeeds — I  might  even  have  saved  England 
from  conquest  and  ruin." 

They  had  reached  the  top  of  Piccadilly,  and  downward 
towards  the  Park  flowed  the  great  afternoon  stream  of  foot- 
people  and  carriages.  Wolfenden,  on  whom  his  com- 
panion's words,  charged  as  they  were  with  an  almost 
passionate  earnestness,  could  scarcely  fail  to  leave  some 
impression,  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

"  Do  you  really  believe,"  he  said,  "  that  ours  is  a  country 
which  could  possibly  stand  in  any  such  danger  ?  We  are 
outside  all  Continental  alliances !  We  are  pledged  to 
support  neither  the  dual  or  the  triple  alliance.  How  could 
we  possibly  become  embroiled  ?  " 

"I  will  tell  you  one  thing  which  you  may  not  readily 
believe,"  Felix  said.  "  There  is  no  country  in  the  world  so 
hated  by  all  the  great  powers  as  England." 

Wolfenden  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Russia,"  he  remarked,  "  is  perhaps  jealous  of  our  hold 
on  Asia,  but " 

"  Russia,"  Felix  interrupted,  "  of  all  the  countries  in  the 
world,  except  perhaps  Italy,  is  the  most  friendly  disposed 
towards  you." 

Wolfenden  laughed. 

"  Come,"  he  said,  "  you  forget  Germany." 

"  Germany  ! "  Felix  exclaimed  scornfully.  "  Believe  it 
or  not  as  you  choose,  but  Germany  detests  you.  I  will 


74  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

tell  you  a  thing  which  you  can  think  of  when  you  are  an 
old  man,  and  there  are  great  changes  and  events  for  you  to 
look  back  upon.  A  war  between  Germany  and  England  is 
only  a  matter  of  time — of  a  few  short  years,  perhaps  even 
months.  In  the  Cabinet  at  Berlin  a  war  with  you  to-day 
would  be  more  popular  than  a  war  with  France." 

"You  take  my  breath  away,"  Wolfenden  exclaimed, 
laughing. 

Felix  was  very  much  in  earnest. 

"In  the  little  world  of  diplomacy,"  he  said,  "in  the 
innermost  councils  these  things  are  known.  The  outside 
public  knows  nothing  of  the  awful  responsibilities  of  those 
who  govern.  Two,  at  least,  of  your  ministers  have  realised 
the  position.  You  read  this  morning  in  the  papers  of  more 
war-ships  and  strengthened  fortifications — already  there  have 
been  whispers  of  the  conscription.  It  is  not  against  Russia 
or  against  France  that  you  are  slowly  arming  yourselves,  it 
is  against  Germany  ! " 

"Germany  would  be  mad  to  fight  us,"  Wolfenden 
declared. 

"  Under  certain  conditions,"  Felix  said  slowly.  "  Don't 
be  angry — Germany  must  beat  you." 

Wolfenden,  looking  across  the  street,  saw  Harcutt  on  the 
steps  of  his  club,  and  beckoned  to  him. 

"There  is  Harcutt,"  he  exclaimed,  pointing  him  out  to 
Felix.  "  He  is  a  journalist,  you  know,  and  in  search  of  a 
sensation.  Let  us  hear  what  he  has  to  say  about  these 
things." 

But  Felix  unlinked  his  arm  from  Wolfenden's  hastily. 

"You  must  excuse  me,"  he  said.  "Harcutt  would 
recognise  me,  and  I  do  not  wish  to  be  pointed  out  every- 
where as  a  would-be  assassin.  Remember  what  I  have 
said,  and  avoid  Sabin  and  his  parasites  as  you  would  the 
devil." 

Felix  hurried  away.     Wolfenden  remained  for  a  moment 


THE  SHADOWS  THAT  GO  BEFORE  75 

standing  in  the  middle  of  the  pavement  looking  blankly 
along  Piccadilly.  Harcutt  crossed  over  to  him. 

"You  look,"  he  remarked  to  Wolfenden,  "like  a  man 
who  needs  a  drink." 

Wolfenden  turned  with  him  into  the  club. 

"I  believe  that  I  do,"  he  said.  ''1  have  had  rather  an 
eventful  hour." 


CHAPTER     X 

THE  SECRETARY 

MR.  SABIN,  who  had  parted  with  Wolfenden  with  evident 
relief,  leaned  back  in  the  cab  and  looked  at  his  watch. 

"  That  young  man,"  he  remarked,  "  has  wasted  ten 
minutes  of  my  time.  He  will  probably  have  to  pay  for 
it  some  day." 

"  By  the  bye,"  the  girl  asked,  "  who  is  he  ?  " 

"  His  name  is  Wolfenden — Lord  Wolfenden." 

"  So  I  gathered ;  and  who  is  Lord  Wolfenden  ?  " 

"The  only  son  of  Admiral  the  Earl  of  Deringham.  I 
don't  know  anything  more  than  that  about  him  myself." 

"Admiral  Deringham,"  the  girl  repeated,  thoughtfully; 
"  the  name  sounds  familiar." 

Mr.  Sabin  nodded. 

"Very  likely,"  he  said.  "He  was  in  command  of  the 
Channel  Squadron  at  the  time  of  the  Magnificent  disaster. 
He  was  barely  half  a  mile  away  and  saw  the  whole  thing. 
He  came  in,  too,  rightly  or  wrongly,  for  a  share  of  the  blame." 

"  Didn't  he  go  mad,  or  something  ?  "  the  girl  asked. 

"He  had  a  fit,"  Mr.  Sabin  said  calmly,  "and  left  the 
service  almost  directly  afterwards.  He  is  living  in  strict 
seclusion  in  Norfolk,  I  believe.  I  should  not  like  to  say 
that  he  is  mad.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  do  not  believe  that 
he  is." 

She  looked  at  him  curiously.     There  was  a  note  of 

reserve  in  his  tone. 

76 


THE  SECRETARY  77 

"  You  are  interested  in  him,  are  you  not  ?  "  she  asked. 

"In  a  measure,"  he  admitted.  "He  is  supposed,  mad 
or  not,  to  be  the  greatest  living  authority  on  the  coast 
defences  of  England  and  the  state  of  her  battleships.  They 
shelved  him  at  the  Admiralty,  but  he  wrote  some  vigorous 
letters  to  the  papers  and  there  are  people  pretty  high  up 
who  believe  in  him.  Others,  of  course,  think  that  he  is 
a  crank." 

"  But  why,"  she  asked,  languidly,  "  are  you  interested  in 
such  matters  ?  " 

Mr.  Sabin  knocked  the  ash  off  the  cigarette  he  was 
smoking  and  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

"  One  gets  interested  nowadays  in — a  great  many  things 
which  scarcely  seem  to  concern  us,"  he  remarked  de- 
liberately. "  You,  for  instance,  seem  interested  in  this 
man's  son.  He  cannot  possibly  be  of  any  account  to  us." 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  Did  I  say  that  I  was  interested  in  him  ?  " 

"  You  did  not,"  Mr.  Sabin  answered,  "  but  it  was  scarcely 
necessary ;  you  stopped  to  speak  to  him  of  your  own  accord, 
and  you  asked  him  to  supper,  which  was  scarcely  discreet." 

"  One  gets  so  bored  sometimes,"  she  admitted  frankly. 

"You  are  only  a  woman,"  he  said  indulgently;  "a  year  of 
waiting  seems  to  you  an  eternity,  however  vast  the  stake. 
There  will  come  a  time  when  you  will  see  things  differently." 

"  I  wonder  ! "  she  said  softly,  "•!  wonder ! " 


Mr.  Sabin  had  unconsciously  spoken  the  truth  when 
he  had  pleaded  an  appointment  to  Lord  Wolfenden.  His 
servant  drew  him  on  one  side  directly  they  entered  the 
house. 

"There  is  a  young  lady  here,  sir,  waiting  for  you  in 
the  study." 

"  Been  here  long  ?  "  Mr.  Sabin  asked. 


78  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"  About  two  hours,  sir.  She  has  rung  once  or  twice 
to  ask  about  you." 

Mr.  Sabin  turned  away  and  opened  the  study  door, 
carefully  closing  it  behind  him  at  once  as  he  recognised 
his  visitor.  The  air  was  blue  with  tobacco  smoke,  and  the 
girl,  who  looked  up  at  his  entrance,  held  a  cigarette  between 
her  fingers.  Mr.  Sabin  was  at  least  as  surprised  as  Lord 
Wolfenden  when  he  recognised  his  visitor,  but  his  face  was 
absolutely  emotionless.  He  nodded  not  unkindly  and  stood 
looking  at  her,  leaning  upon  his  stick. 

"  Well,  Blanche,  what  has  gone  wrong  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Pretty  well  everything,"  she  answered.  "  I've  been 
turned  away." 

"  Detected  ?  "  he  asked  quickly. 

"  Suspected,  at  any  rate.  I  wrote  you  that  Lord  Dering- 
ham  was  watching  me  sharply.  Where  he  got  the  idea  from 
I  can't  imagine,  but  he  got  it  and  he  got  it  right,  anyhow. 
He's  followed  me  about  like  a  cat,  and  it's  all  up." 

"  What  does  he  know  ?  " 

"  Nothing  !  He  found  a  sheet  of  carbon  on  my  desk,  no 
more  !  I  had  to  leave  in  an  hour." 

"  And  Lady  Deringham  ?  " 

"  She  is  like  the  rest — she  thinks  him  mad.  She  has  not 
the  faintest  idea  that,  mad  or  not,  he  has  stumbled  upon  the 
truth.  She  was  glad  to  have  me  go — for  other  reasons  ; 
but  she  has  not  the  faintest  doubt  but  that  I  have  been 
unjustly  dismissed." 

"  And  he  ?     How  much  does  he  know  ?  " 

"  Exactly  what  I  told  you — nothing  !  His  idea  was  just 
a  confused  one  that  I  thought  the  stuff  valuable — how  you 
can  make  any  sense  of  such  trash  I  don't  know — and  that  I 
was  keeping  a  copy  back  for  myself.  He  was  worrying  for 
an  excuse  to  get  rid  of  me,  and  he  grabbed  at  it." 

"  Why  was  Lady  Deringham  glad  to  have  you  go  ?  "  Mr. 
Sabin  asked. 


THE  SECRETARY  79 

"  Because  I  amused  myself  with  her  son." 

"  Lord  Wolfenden  ?  " 

"  Yes  ! " 

For  the  first  time  since  he  had  entered  the  room  Mr. 
Sabin's  grim  countenance  relaxed.  The  corners  of  his  lips 
slowly  twisted  themselves  into  a  smile. 

"  Good  girl,"  he  said.     "  Is  he  any  use  now  ?  " 

"  None,"  she  answered  with  some  emphasis.  "  None 
whatever.  He  is  a  fool." 

The  colour  in  her  cheeks  had  deepened  a  little.  A  light 
shot  from  her  eyes.  Mr.  Sabin's  amusement  deepened.  He 
looked  positively  benign. 

"  You've  tried  him  ?  "  he  suggested. 

The  girl  nodded,  and  blew  a  little  cloud  of  tobacco  smoke 
from  her  mouth. 

"  Yes  ;  I  went  there  last  night.  He  was  very  kind.  He 
sent  his  servant  out  with  me  and  got  me  nice,  respectable 
rooms." 

Mr.  Sabin  did  what  was  for  him  an  exceptional  thing.  He 
sat  down  and  laughed  to  himself  softly,  but  with  a  genuine 
and  obvious  enjoyment. 

"Blanche,"  he  said,  "it  was  a  lucky  thing  that  I  dis- 
covered you.  No  one  else  could  have  appreciated  you 
properly." 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  sudden  hardness. 

"  You  should  appreciate  me,"  she  said,  "  for  what  I  am 
you  made  me.  I  am  of  your  handiwork:  a  man  should 
appeciate  the  tool  of  his  own  fashioning." 

"  Nature,"  Mr.  Sabin  said  smoothly,  "  had  made  the  way 
easy  for  me.  Mine  were  but  finishing  touches.  But  we 
have  no  time  for  this  sort  of  thing.  You  have  done  well 
at  Deringham  and  I  shall  not  forget  it.  But  your  dismissal 
just  now  is  exceedingly  awkward.  For  the  moment,  indeed, 
I  scarcely  see  my  way.  I  wonder  in  what  direction  Lord 
Deringham  will  look  for  your  successor  ?  " 


8o  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

11  Not  anywhere  within  the  sphere  of  your  influence,"  she 
answered.  "  I  do  not  think  that  I  shall  have  a  successor  at 
all  just  yet.  There  was  only  a  week's  work  to  do.  He  will 
copy  that  himself." 

"  I  am  very  much  afraid,"  Mr.  Sabin  said,  "  that  he  will ; 
yet  we  must  have  that  copy." 

"  You  will  be  very  clever,"  she  said  slowly.  "  He  has  put 
watches  all  round  the  place,  and  the  windows  are  barricaded. 
He  sleeps  with  a  revolver  by  his  side,  and  there  are  several 
horrors  in  the  shape  of  traps  all  round  the  house." 

"No  wonder,"  Mr.  Sabin  said,  "that  people  think  him 
mad." 

The  girl  laughed  shortly. 

"  He  is  mad,"  she  said.  "  There  is  no  possible  doubt 
about  that ;  you  couldn't  live  with  him  a  day  and  doubt 
it." 

"  Hereditary,  no  doubt,"  Mr.  Sabin  suggested  quietly. 

Blanche  shrugged  her  shoulders  and  leaned  back  yawning. 

"  Anyhow,"  she  said,  "  I've  had  enough  of  them  all.  It 
has  been  very  tiresome  work  and  I  am  sick  of  it.  Give  me 
some  money.  I  want  a  spree.  I  am  going  to  have  a  month's 
holiday." 

Mr.  Sabin  sat  down  at  his  desk  and  drew  out  a  cheque- 
book. 

"  There  will  be  no  difficulty  about  the  money,"  he  said, 
"  but  I  cannot  spare  you  for  a  month.  Long  before  that  I 
must  have  the  rest  of  this  madman's  figures." 

The  girl's  face  darkened. 

"  Haven't  I  told  you,"  she  said,  "  that  there  is  not  the 
slightest  chance  of  their  taking  me  back  ?  You  might  as 
well  believe  me.  They  wouldn't  have  me,  and  I  wouldn't 

go." 

"  I  do  not  expect  anything  of  the  sort,"  Mr.  Sabin  said. 
"  There  are  other  directions,  though,  in  which  I  shall  require 
your  aid.  I  shall  have  to  go  to  Deringham  myself,  and  as 


THE  SECRETARY  81 

I  know  nothing  whatever  about  the  place  you  will  be  useful 
to  me  there.  I  believe  that  your  home  is  somewhere  near 
there." 

"Well!" 

"There  is  no  reason,  I  suppose,"  Mr.  Sabin  continued, 
"  why  a  portion  of  the  vacation  you  were  speaking  of  should 
not  be  spent  there  ?  " 

"  None ! "  the  girl  replied,  "  except  that  it  would  be 
deadly  dull,  and  no  holiday  at  all.  I  should  want  paying 
for  it." 

Mr.  Sabin  looked  down  at  the  cheque-book  which 
lay  open  before  him. 

"  I  was  intending,"  he  said,  "  to  offer  you  a  cheque 
for  fifty  pounds.  I  will  make  it  one  hundred,  and  you 
will  rejoin  your  family  circle  at  Fakenham,  I  believe,  in  one 
week  from  to-day." 

The  girl  made  a  wry  face. 

"  The  money's  all  right,"  she  said;  "  but  you  ought  to  see 
my  family  circle !  They  are  all  cracked  on  farming,  from 
the  poor  old  dad  who  loses  all  his  spare  cash  at  it,  down  to 
little  Letty  my  youngest  sister,  who  can  tell  you  everything 
about  the  last  turnip  crop.  Do  ride  over  and  see  us  !  You 
will  find  it  so  amusing  !  " 

"  I  shall  be  charmed,"  Mr.  Sabin  said  sauvely,  as  he 
commenced  filling  in  the  body  of  the  cheque.  "Are 
all  your  sisters,  may  I  ask,  as  delightful  as  you  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  defiantly. 

"  Look  here,"  she  said,  "  none  of  that !  Of  course  you 
wouldn't  come,  but  in  any  case  I  won't  have  you.  The 
girls  are — well,  not  like  me,  I'm  glad  to  say.  I  won't  have 
the  responsibility  of  introducing  a  Mephistocles  into  the 
domestic  circle." 

" I  can  assure  you,"  Mr.  Sabin  said,  "that  I  had  not  the 
faintest  idea  of  coming.  My  visit  to  Norfolk  will  be  any- 
thing but  a  pleasure  trip,  and  I  shall  have  no  time  to  spare. 

6 


82  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

1  believe  I  have  your  address:  'Westacott  Farm,  Faken- 
ham,'  is  it  not?  Now  do  what  you  like  in  the  meantime, 
but  a  week  from  to-day  there  will  be  a  letter  from  me  there. 
Here  is  the  cheque." 

The  girl  rose  and  shook  out  her  skirts. 

"  Aren't  you  going  to  take  me  anywhere  ?  "  she  asked. 
"You  might  ask  me  to  have  supper  with  you  to-night." 

Mr.  Sabin  shook  his  head  gently. 

"  I  am  sorry,"  he  said,  "  but  I  have  a  young  lady  living 
with  me." 

"  Oh ! " 

"  She  is  my  niece,  and  it  takes  more  than  my  spare  time 
to  entertain  her,"  he  continued,  without  noticing  the  inter- 
jection. "You  have  plenty  of  friends.  Go  and  look  them 
up  and  enjoy  yourself — for  a  week.  I  have  no  heart  to  go 
pleasure-making  until  my  work  is  finished." 

She  drew  on  her  gloves  and  walked  to  the  door.  Mr. 
Sabin  came  with  her  and  opened  it. 

"I  wish,"  she  said,  "that  I  could  understand  what  in 
this  world  you  are  trying  to  evolve  from  those  rubbishy 
papers." 

He  laughed. 

"  Some  day,"  he  said,  "  I  will  tell  you.  At  present  you 
would  not  understand.  Be  patient  a  little  longer." 

"  It  has  been  long  enough,"  she  exclaimed.  "  I  have 
had  seven  months  of  it." 

"  And  I,"  he  answered,  "  seven  years.  Take  care  of 
yourself  and  remember,  I  shall  want  you  in  a  week." 


CHAPTER    XI 

THE    FRUIT   THAT   IS   OF   COLD 

AT  precisely  the  hour  agreed  upon  Harcutt  and  Densham 
met  in  one  of  the  ante-rooms  leading  into  the  "  Milan ' 
restaurant.  They  surrendered  their  coats  and  hats  to  an 
attendant,  and  strolled  about  waiting  for  Wolfenden.  A 
quarter  of  an  hour  passed.  The  stream  of  people  from  the 
theatres  began  to  grow  thinner.  Still,  Wolfenden  did  not 
come.  Harcutt  took  out  his  watch. 

"  I  propose  that  we  do  not  wait  any  longer  for  Wolfenden," 
he  said.  "  I  saw  him  this  afternoon,  and  he  answered  me 
very  oddly  when  I  reminded  him  about  to-night.  There 
is  such  a  crowd  here  too,  that  they  will  not  keep  our  table 
much  longer." 

"  Let  us  go  in,  by  all  means,"  Densham  agreed. 
"  Wolfenden  will  easily  find  us  if  he  wants  to  ! " 

Harcutt  returned  his  watch  to  his  pocket  slowly,  and 
without  removing  his  eyes  from  Densham's  face. 

"  You're  not  looking  very  fit,  old  chap,"  he  remarked. 
"  Is  anything  wrong  ?  " 

Densham  shook  his  head  and  turned  away. 

"  I  am  a  little  tired,"  he  said.  "  We've  been  keeping  late 
hours  the  last  few  nights.  There's  nothing  the  matter  with 
me,  though.  Come,  let  us  go  in  ! " 

Harcutt  linked  his  arm  in  Densham's.  The  two  men 
stood  in  the  doorway. 

83 


84  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"  I  have  not  asked  you  yet,"  Harcutt  said,  in  a  low  tone. 
"What  fortune?" 

Densham  laughed  a  little  bitterly. 

"  I  will  tell  you  all  that  I  know  presently,"  he  said. 

"  You  have  found  out  something,  then  ?  " 

"  I  have  found  out,"  Densham  answered,  "  all  that  I  care 
to  know !  I  have  found  out  so  much  that  I  am  leaving 
England  within  a  week  ! " 

Harcutt  looked  at  him  curiously. 

"  Poor  old  chap,"  he  said  softly.  "  I  had  no  idea  that 
you  were  so  hard  hit  as  all  that,  you  know." 

They  passed  through  the  crowded  room  to  their  table. 
Suddenly  Harcutt  stopped  short  and  laid  his  hand  upon 
Densham's  arm. 

"Great  Scott!"  he  exclaimed.  "Look  at  that!  No 
wonder  we  had  to  wait  for  Wolfenden  ! " 

Mr.  Sabin  and  his  niece  were  occupying  the  same  table 
as  on  the  previous  night,  only  this  time  they  were  not  alone. 
Wolfenden  was  sitting  there  between  the  two.  At  the 
moment  of  their  entrance,  he  and  the  girl  were  laughing 
together.  Mr.  Sabin,  with  the  air  of  one  wholly  detached 
from  his  companions,  was  calmly  proceeding  with  his 
supper. 

"  I  understand  now,"  Harcutt  whispered,  "  what  Wolfen- 
den meant  this  afternoon.  When  I  reminded  him  about 
to-night,  he  laughed  and  said  :  'Well,  I  shall  see  you,  at  any 
rate.'  I  thought  it  was  odd  at  the  time.  I  wonder  how  he 
managed  it  ?  " 

Densham  made  no  reply.  The  two  men  took  their  seats 
in  silence.  Wolfenden  was  sitting  with  his  back  half-turned 
to  them,  and  he  had  not  noticed  their  entrance.  In  a 
moment  or  two,  however,  he  looked  round,  and  seeing 
them,  leaned  over  towards  the  girl  and  apparently  asked 
her  something.  She  nodded,  and  he  immediately  left  his 
seat  and  joined  them. 


THE  FRUIT  THAT  IS  OF  GOLD  85 

There  was  a  little  hesitation,  almost  awkwardness  in  their 
greetings.  No  one  knew  exactly  what  to  say. 

"  You  fellows  are  rather  late,  aren't  you  ? "  Wolfenden 
remarked. 

"We  were  here  punctually  enough,"  Harcutt  replied; 
"  but  we  have  been  waiting  for  you  nearly  a  quarter  of  an 
hour." 

"  I  am  sorry,"  Wolfenden  said.  "  The  fact  is  I  ought  to 
have  left  word  when  I  came  in,  but  I  quite  forgot  it.  I  took 
it  for  granted  that  you  would  look  into  the  room  when  you 
found  that  I  was  behind  time." 

"  Well,  it  isn't  of  much  consequence,"  Harcutt  declared ; 
"  we  are  here  now,  at  any  rate,  although  it  seems  that  after 
all  we  are  not  to  have  supper  together." 

Wolfenden  glanced  rapidly  over  his  shoulder. 

"  You  understand  the  position,  of  course,"  he  said.  "  I 
need  not  ask  you  to  excuse  me." 

Harcutt  nodded. 

"  Oh,  we'll  excuse  you,  by  all  means ;  but  on  one  con- 
dition— we  want  to  know  all  about  it.  Where  can  we  see 
you  afterwards  ?  " 

"At  my  rooms,"  Wolfenden  said,  turning  away  and 
resuming  his  seat  at  the  other  table. 

Densham  had  made  no  attempt  whatever  to  join  in  the 
conversation.  Once  his  eyes  had  met  Wolfenden's,  and  it 
seemed  to  the  latter  that  there  was  a  certain  expression 
there  which  needed  some  explanation.  It  was  not  anger — 
it  certainly  was  not  envy.  Wolfenden  was  puzzled — he  was 
even  disturbed.  Had  Densham  discovered  anything  further 
than  he  himself  knew  about  this  man  and  the  girl  ?  What 
did  he  mean  by  looking  as  though  the  key  to  this  mys- 
terious situation  was  in  his  hands,  and  as  though  he  had 
nothing  but  pity  for  the  only  one  of  the  trio  who  had  met 
with  any  success  ?  Wolfenden  resumed  his  seat  with  an 
uncomfortable  conviction  that  Densham  knew  more  than 


86  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SAB1N 

he  did  about  these  people  whose  guest  he  had  become,  and 
that  the  knowledge  had  damped  all  his  ardour.  There  was 
a  cloud  upon  his  face  for  a  moment.  The  exuberance  of 
his  happiness  had  received  a  sudden  check.  Then  the  girl 
spoke  to  him,  and  the  memory  of  Densham's  unspoken 
warning  passed  away.  He  looked  at  her  long  and  search- 
ingly.  Her  face  was  as  innocent  and  proud  as  the  face  of 
a  child.  She  was  unconscious  even  of  his  close  scrutiny. 
The  man  might  be  anything ;  it  might  even  be  that  every 
word  that  Felix  had  spoken  was  true.  But  of  the  girl  he 
would  believe  no  evil,  he  would  not  doubt  her  even  for  a 
moment. 

"  Your  friend,"  remarked  Mr.  Sabin,  helping  himself  to 
an  ortolan,  "  is  a  journalist,  is  he  not  ?  His  face  seems 
familiar  to  me  although  I  have  forgotten  his  name,  if  ever 
I  knew  it." 

"  He  is  a  journalist,"  Wolfenden  answered.  "  Not  one 
of  the  rank  and  file — rather  a  dilettante,  but  still  a  hard 
worker.  He  is  devoted  to  his  profession,  though,  and  his 
name  is  Harcutt." 

"Harcutt!"  Mr.  Sabin  repeated,  although  he  did  not 
appear  to  recollect  the  name.  "  He  is  a  political  journalist, 
is  he  not  ?  " 

"  Not  that  I  am  aware  of,"  Wolfenden  answered.  "  He 
is  generally  considered  to  be  the  great  scribe  of  society. 
I  believe  that  he  is  interested  in  foreign  politics, 
though." 

"  Ah  ! " 

Mr.  Sabin's  interjection  was  significant,  and  Wolfenden 
looked  up  quickly  but  fruitlessly.  The  man's  face  was 
impenetrable. 

"  The  other  fellow,"  Wolfenden  said,  turning  to  the  girl, 
"is  Densham,  the  painter.  His  picture  in  this  year's 
Academy  was  a  good  deal  talked  about,  and  he  does 
some  excellent  portraits." 


THE  FRUIT  THAT  IS  OF  GOLD  87 

She  threw  a  glance  at  him  over  her  gleaming  white 
shoulder. 

"  He  looks  like  an  artist,"  she  said.  "  I  liked  his  picture 
— a  French  landscape,  was  it  not  ?  And  his  portrait  of  the 
Countess  of  Davenport  was  magnificent." 

"  If  you  would  care  to  know  him,"  Wolfenden  said,  "  I 
should  be  very  happy  to  present  him  to  you." 

Mr.  Sabin  looked  up  and  shook  his  head  quickly,  but 
firmly. 

"  You  must  excuse  us,"  he  said.  "  My  niece  and  I  are 
not  in  England  for  very  long,  and  we  have  reasons  for 
avoiding  new  acquaintances  as  much  as  possible." 

A  shade  passed  across  the  girl's  face.  Wolfenden  would 
have  given  much  to  have  known  into  what  worlds  those 
clear,  soft  eyes,  suddenly  set  in  a  far  away  gaze,  were 
wandering — what  those  regrets  were  which  had  floated  up 
so  suddenly  before  her.  Was  she  too  as  impenetrable  as 
the  man,  or  would  he  some  day  share  with  her  what  there 
was  of  sorrow  or  of  mystery  in  her  young  life  ?  His  heart 
beat  with  unaccustomed  quickness  at  the  thought.  Mr. 
Sabin's  last  remark,  the  uncertainty  of  his  own  position  with 
regard  to  these  people,  filled  him  with  sudden  fear;  it 
might  be  that  he  too  was  to  be  included  in  the  sentence 
which  had  just  been  pronounced.  He  looked  up  from  the 
table  to  find  Mr.  Sabin's  cold,  steely  eyes  fixed  upon  him, 
and  acting  upon  a  sudden  impulse  he  spoke  what  was 
nearest  to  his  heart. 

"  I  hope,"  he  said,  "  that  the  few  acquaintances  whom 
fate  does  bring  you  are  not  to  suffer  for  the  same  reason." 

Mr.  Sabin  smiled  and  poured  himself  out  a  glass  of  wine. 

"  You  are  very  good,"  he  said.  "  I  presume  that  you 
refer  to  yourself.  We  shall  always  be  glad  that  we  met 
you,  shall  we  not,  Helene?  But  I  doubt  very  much  if, 
after  to-night,  we  shall  meet  again  in  England  at  all." 

To  Wolfenden  the  light  seemed  suddenly  to  have  gone 


88  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

out,  and  the  soft,  low  music  to  have  become  a  wailing 
dirge.  He  retained  some  command  of  his  features  only  by 
a  tremendous  effort.  Even  then  he  felt  that  he  had  become 
pale,  and  that  his  voice  betrayed  something  of  the  emotion 
that  he  felt. 

"  You  are  going  away,"  he  said  slowly — "  abroad  ! " 

"Very  soon  indeed,"  Mr.  Sabin  answered.  "At  any 
rate,  we  leave  London  during  the  week.  You  must  not 
look  upon  us,  Lord  Wolfenden,  as  ordinary  pleasure-seekers. 
We  are  wanderers  upon  the  face  of  the  earth,  not  so  much 
by  choice  as  by  destiny.  I  want  you  to  try  one  of  these 
cigarettes.  They  were  given  to  me  by  the  Khedive,  and 
I  think  you  will  admit  that  he  knows  more  about  tobacco 
than  he  does  about  governing." 

The  girl  had  been  gazing  steadfastly  at  the  grapes  that 
lay  untasted  upon  her  plate,  and  Wolfenden  glanced  to- 
wards her  twice  in  vain  ;  now,  however,  she  looked  up,  and 
a  slight  smile  parted  her  lips  as  her  eyes  met  his.  How 
pale  she  was,  and  how  suddenly  serious  ! 

"  Do  not  take  my  uncle  too  literally,  Lord  Wolfenden," 
she  said  softly.  "  I  hope  that  we  shall  meet  again  some  time, 
if  not  often.  I  should  be  very  sorry  not  to  think  so.  We 
owe  you  so  much." 

There  was  an  added  warmth  in  those  last  few  words, 
a  subtle  light  in  her  eyes.  Was  she  indeed  a  past  mistress 
in  all  the  arts  of  coquetry,  or  was  there  not  some  message 
for  him  in  that  lowered  tone  and  softened  glance  ?  He  sat 
spellbound  for  a  moment.  Her  bosom  was  certainly  rising 
and  falling  more  quickly.  The  pearls  at  her  throat  quivered. 
Then  Mr.  Sabin's  voice,  cold  and  displeased,  dissolved  the 
situation. 

"  I  think,  Helene,  if  you  are  ready,  we  had  better  go," 
he  said.  "  It  is  nearly  half-past  twelve,  and  we  shall  escape 
the  crush  if  we  leave  at  once." 

She  stood  up  silently,  and  Wolfenden,  with  slow  fingers, 


THE  FRUIT  THAT  IS  OF  GOLD  89 

raised  her  cloak  from  the  back  of  the  chair  and  covered 
her  shoulders.  She  thanked  him  softly,  and  turning  away, 
walked  down  the  room  followed  by  the  two  men.  In  the 
ante-room  Mr.  Sabin  stopped. 

"My  watch,"  he  remarked,  "was  fast.  You  will  have 
time  after  all  for  a  cigarette  with  your  friends.  Good- 
night." 

Wolfenden  had  no  alternative  but  to  accept  his  dismissal. 
A  little,  white  hand,  flashing  with  jewels,  but  shapely  and 
delicate,  stole  out  from  the  dark  fur  of  her  cloak,  and  he 
held  it  within  his  for  a  second. 

"  I  hope,"  he  said,  "  that  at  any  rate  you  will  allow  me  to 
call,  and  say  goodbye  before  you  leave  England  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  faint  smile  upon  her  lips.  Yet 
her  eyes  were  very  sad. 

"  You  have  heard  what  my  inexorable  guardian  has  said, 
Lord  Wolfenden,"  she  answered  quietly.  "  I  am  afraid  he 
is  right.  We  are  wanderers,  he  and  I,  with  no  settled 
home." 

"  I  shall  venture  to  hope,"  he  said  boldly,  "  that  some 
day  you  will  make  one — in  England." 

A  tinge  of  colour  flashed  into  her  cheeks.  Her  eyes 
danced  with  amusement  at  his  audacity — then  they  sud- 
denly dropped,  and  she  caught  up  the  folds  of  her  gown. 

"Ah,  well,"  she  said  demurely,  "that  would  be  too  great 
a  happiness.  Farewell !  One  never  knows." 

She  yielded  at  last  to  Mr.  Sabin's  cold  impatience,  and 
turning  away,  followed  him  down  the  staircase.  Wolfenden 
remained  at  the  top  until  she  had  passed  out  of  sight ;  he 
lingered  even  for  a  moment  or  two  afterwards,  inhaling  the 
faint,  subtle  perfume  shaken  from  her  gown — a  perfume 
which  reminded  him  of  an  orchard  of  pink  and  white  apple 
blossoms  in  Normandy.  Then  he  turned  back,  and  finding 
Harcutt  and  Densham  lingering  over  their  coffee,  sat  down 
beside  them. 


90  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

Harcutt  looked  at  him  through  half-closed  eyes — a  little 
cloud  of  blue  tobacco  smoke  hung  over  the  table.  Densham 
had  eaten  little,  but  smoked  continually. 

"  Well  ?  "  he  asked  laconically. 

"  After  all,"  Wolfenden  said,  "  I  have  not  very  much  to 
tell  you  fellows.  Mr.  Sabin  did  not  call  upon  me ;  I  met 
him  by  chance  in  Bond  Street,  and  the  girl  asked  me  to 
supper,  more  I  believe  in  jest  than  anything.  However,  of 
course  I  took  advantage  of  it,  and  I  have  spent  the  evening 
since  eleven  o'clock  with  them.  But  as  to  gaining  any 
definite  information  as  to  who  or  what  they  are,  I  must 
confess  I've  failed  altogether.  I  know  no  more  than  I  did 
yesterday." 

"  At  any  rate,"  Harcutt  remarked,  "  you  will  soon  learn 
all  that  you  care  to  know.  You  have  inserted  the  thin  end 
of  the  wedge.  You  have  established  a  visiting  acquaint- 
ance." 

Wolfenden  flicked  the  end  from  his  cigarette  savagely. 

"  Nothing  of  the  sort,"  he  declared.  "  They  have  not 
given  me  their  address,  or  asked  me  to  call.  On  the  con- 
trary, I  was  given  very  clearly  to  understand  by  Mr.  Sabin 
that  they  were  only  travellers  and  desired  no  acquaintances. 
I  know  them,  that  is  all ;  what  the  next  step  is  to  be  I  have 
not  the  faintest  idea." 

Densham  leaned  over  towards  them.  There  was  a  strange 
light  in  his  eyes — a  peculiar,  almost  tremulous,  earnestness 
in  his  tone. 

"  Why  should  there  be  any  next  step  at  all  ? "  he  said. 
"  Let  us  all  drop  this  ridiculous  business.  It  has  gone  far 
enough.  I  have  a  presentiment — not  altogether  presenti- 
ment either,  as  it  is  based  upon  a  certain  knowledge.  It  is 
true  that  these  are  not  ordinary  people,  and  the  girl  is 
beautiful.  But  they  are  not  of  our  lives  !  Let  them  pass 
out.  Let  us  forget  them." 

Harcutt  shook  his  head. 


THE  FRUIT  THAT  IS  OF  GOLD  91 

"  The  man  is  too  interesting  to  be  forgotten  or  ignored," 
he  said.  "  I  must  know  more  about  him,  and  before  many 
days  have  passed." 

Densham  turned  to  the  younger  man. 

"  At  least,  Wolfenden,"  he  said,  "  you  will  listen  to  reason. 
I  tel'  you  as  a  man  of  honour,  and  I  think  I  may  add  as 
your  friend,  that  you  are  only  courting  disappointment. 
The  girl  is  not  for  you,  or  me,  or  any  of  us.  If  I  dared 
tell  you  what  I  know,  you  would  be  the  first  to  admit  it 
yourself." 

Wolfenden  returned  Densham's  eager  gaze  steadfastly. 

"I  have  gone,"  he  said  calmly,  "too  far  to  turn  back. 
You  fellows  both  know  I  am  not  a  woman's  man.  I've 
never  cared  for  a  girl  in  all  my  life,  or  pretended  to, 
seriously.  Now  that  I  do,  it  is  not  likely  that  I  shall  give 
her  up  without  any  definite  reason.  You  must  speak  more 
plainly,  Densham,  or  not  at  all." 

Densham  rose  from  his  chair. 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  he  said. 

Wolfenden  turned  upon  him,  frowning. 

"  You  need  not  be,"  he  said.  "  You  and  Harcutt  have 
both,  I  believe,  heard  some  strange  stories  concerning  the 
man ;  but  as  for  the  girl,  no  one  shall  dare  to  speak  an 
unbecoming  word  of  her." 

"  No  one  desired  to,"  Densham  answered  quietly.  "And 
yet  there  may  be  other  and  equally  grave  objections  to  any 
intercourse  with  her." 

Wolfenden  smiled  confidently. 

"  Nothing  in  the  world  worth  winning,"  he  said,  "  is  won 
without  an  effort,  or  without  difficulty.  The  fruit  that  is 
of  gold  does  not  drop  into  your  mouth." 

The  band  had  ceased  to  play  and  the  lights  went  out. 
Around  them  was  all  the  bustle  of  departure.  The  three 
men  rose  and  left  the  room. 


CHAPTER  XII 
WOLFENDEN'S    LUCK 

To  leave  London  at  all,  under  ordinary  circumstances,  was 
usually  a  hardship  for  Wolfenden,  but  to  leave  London  at 
this  particular  moment  of  his  life  was  little  less  than  a 
calamity,  yet  a  letter  which  he  received  a  few  mornings 
after  the  supper  at  the  "  Milan "  left  him  scarcely  any 
alternative.  He  read  it  over  for  the  third  time  whilst  his 
breakfast  grew  cold,  and  each  time  his  duty  seemed  to 
become  plainer. 

"  DERINGHAM  HALL,  NORFOLK. 

"  MY  DEAR  WOLFENDEN, — We  have  been  rather  looking 
for  you  to  come  down  for  a  day  or  two,  and  I  do  hope 
that  you  will  be  able  to  manage  it  directly  you  receive  this. 
I  am  sorry  to  say  that  your  father  is  very  far  from  well,  and 
we  have  all  been  much  upset  lately.  He  still  works  for 
eight  or  nine  hours  a  day,  and  his  hallucinations  as  to  the 
value  of  his  papers  increases  with  every  page  he  writes. 
His  latest  peculiarity  is  a  rooted  conviction  that  there  is 
some  plot  on  hand  to  rob  him  of  his  manuscripts.  You 
remember,  perhaps,  Miss  Merton,  the  young  person  whom 
we  engaged  as  typewriter.  He  sent  her  away  the  other 
day,  without  a  moment's  notice,  simply  because  he  saw 
her  with  a  sheet  of  copying  paper  in  her  hand.  I  did  not 
like  the  girl,  but  it  is  perfectly  ridiculous  to  suspect  her  of 

anything  of  the  sort.    He  insisted,  however,  that  she  should 

92 


WOLFENDEWS  LUCK  93 

leave  the  house  within  an  hour,  and  we  were  obliged  to 
give  in  to  him.  Since  then  he  has  seemed  to  become  even 
more  fidgety.  He  has  had  cast-iron  shutters  fitted  to  the 
study  windows,  and  two  of  the  keepers  are  supposed  to  be 
on  duty  outside  night  and  day,  with  loaded  revolvers. 
People  around  here  are  all  beginning  to  talk,  and  I  am 
afraid  that  it  is  only  natural  that  they  should.  He  will 
see  no  one,  and  the  library  door  is  shut  and  bolted  imme- 
diately he  has  entered  it.  Altogether  it  is  a  deplorable 
state  of  things,  and  what  will  be  the  end  of  it  I  cannot 
imagine.  Sometimes  it  occurs  to  me  that  you  might  have 
more  influence  over  him  than  I  have.  I  hope  that  you 
will  be  able  to  come  down,  if  only  for  a  day  or  two,  and 
see  what  effect  your  presence  has.  The  shooting  is  not 
good  this  year,  but  Captain  Willis  was  telling  me  yesterday 
that  the  golf  links  were  in  excellent  condition,  and  there  is 
the  yacht,  of  course,  if  you  care  to  use  it.  Your  father 
seems  to  have  quite  forgotten  that  she  is  still  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood, I  am  glad  to  say.  Those  inspection  cruises 
were  very  bad  things  for  him.  He  used  to  get  so  excited, 
and  he  was  dreadfully  angry  if  the  photographs  which  I 
took  were  at  all  imperfectly  developed.  How  is  every- 
body ?  Have  you  seen  Lady  Susan  lately  ?  and  is  it  true 
that  Eleanor  is  engaged  ?  I  feel  literally  buried  here,  but 
I  dare  not  suggest  a  move.  London,  for  him  at  present, 
would  be  madness.  I  shall  hope  to  get  a  wire  from  you 
to-morrow,  and  will  send  to  Cromer  to  meet  any  train. — 
From  your  affectionate  mother, 

"  CONSTANCE  MANVER  DERINGHAM." 

There  was  not  a  word  of  reproach  in  the  letter,  but 
nevertheless  Wolfenden  felt  a  little  conscience-stricken. 
He  ought  to  have  gone  down  to  Deringham  before ;  most 
certainly  after  the  receipt  of  this  summons  he  could  not 
delay  his  visit  any  longer.  He  walked  up  and  down  the 


94  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SAB1N 

room  impatiently.  To  leave  London  just  now  was  detest- 
able. It  was  true  that  he  could  not  call  upon  them,  and 
he  had  no  idea  where  else  to  look  for  these  people,  who, 
for  some  mysterious  reason,  seemed  to  be  doing  all  that 
they  could  to  avoid  his  acquaintance.  Yet  chance  had 
favoured  him  once — chance  might  stand  his  friend  again. 
At  any  rate  to  feel  himself  in  the  same  city  with  her  was 
some  consolation.  For  the  last  three  days  he  had  haunted 
Piccadilly  and  Bond  Street.  He  had  become  a  saunterer, 
and  the  shop  windows  had  obtained  from  him  an  attention 
which  he  had  never  previously  bestowed  upon  them.  The 
thought  that,  at  any  turning,  at  any  moment,  they  might 
meet,  continually  thrilled  him.  The  idea  of  a  journey 
which  would  place  such  a  meeting  utterly  out  of  the 
question,  was  more  than  distasteful — it  was  hateful. 

And  yet  he  would  have  to  go.  He  admitted  that  to 
himself  as  he  ate  his  solitary  breakfast,  with  the  letter 
spread  out  before  him.  Since  it  was  inevitable,  he  decided 
to  lose  no  time.  Better  go  at  once  and  have  it  over.  The 
sooner  he  got  there  the  sooner  he  would  be  able  to  return. 
He  rang  the  bell,  and  gave  the  necessary  orders.  At  a 
quarter  to  twelve  he  was  at  King's  Cross. 

He  took  his  ticket  in  a  gloomy  frame  of  mind,  and 
bought  the  Field  and  a  sporting  novel  at  the  bookstall. 
Then  he  turned  towards  the  train,  and  walking  idly  down 
the  platform,  looking  for  Selby  and  his  belongings,  he 
experienced  what  was  very  nearly  the  greatest  surprise  of 
his  life.  So  far,  coincidence  was  certainly  doing  her  best 
to  befriend  him.  A  girl  was  seated  alone  in  the  further 
corner  of  a  first-class  carriage.  Something  familiar  in  the 
poise  of  her  head,  or  the  gleam  of  her  hair  gathered  up 
underneath  an  unusually  smart  travelling  hat,  attracted  his 
attention.  He  came  to  a  sudden  standstill,  breathless, 
incredulous.  She  was  looking  out  of  the  opposite  window, 
her  head  resting  upon  her  fingers,  but  a  sudden  glimpse  of 


WOLFENDEN'S  LUCK  95 

her  profile  assured  him  that  this  was  no  delusion.  It  was 
Mr.  Sabin's  niece  who  sat  there,  a  passenger  by  his  own 
train,  probably,  as  he  reflected  with  a  sudden  illuminative 
flash  of  thought,  to  be  removed  from  the  risk  of  any  more 
meetings  with  him. 

Wolfenden,  with  a  discretion  at  which  he  afterwards 
wondered,  did  not  at  once  attract  her  attention.  He 
hurried  off  to  the  smoking  carriage  before  which  his  servant 
was  standing,  and  had  his  own  belongings  promptly  removed 
on  to  the  platform.  Then  he  paid  a  visit  to  the  refresh- 
ment-room, and  provided  himself  with  an  extensive  luncheon 
basket,  and  finally,  at  the  bookstall,  he  bought  up  every 
lady's  paper  and  magazine  he  could  lay  his  hands  upon. 
There  was  only  a  minute  now  before  the  train  was  due  to 
leave,  and  he  walked  along  the  platform  as  though  looking 
for  a  seat,  followed  by  his  perplexed  servant.  When  he 
arrived  opposite  to  her  carriage,  he  paused,  only  to  find 
himself  confronted  by  a  severe-looking  maid  dressed  in 
black,  and  the  guard.  For  the  first  time  he  noticed  the 
little  strip,  "  engaged,"  pasted  across  the  window. 

"  Plenty  of  room  lower  down,  sir,"  the  guard  remarked. 
"  This  is  an  engaged  carriage." 

The  maid  whispered  something  to  the  guard,  who  nodded 
and  locked  the  door.  At  the  sound  of  the  key,  however, 
the  girl  looked  round  and  saw  Wolfenden.  She  lifted  her 
eyebrows  and  smiled  faintly.  Then  she  came  to  the 
window  and  let  it  down. 

"Whatever  are  you  doing  here?"  she  asked.    "You " 

He  interrupted  her  gently.  The  train  was  on  the  point 
of  departure. 

"  I  am  going  down  into  Norfolk,"  he  said.  "  I  had  not 
the  least  idea  of  seeing  you.  I  do  not  think  that  I  was 
ever  so  surprised." 

Then  he  hesitated  for  a  moment. 

"  May  I  come  in  with  you  ?  "  he  asked. 


96  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

She  laughed  at  him.  He  had  been  so  afraid  of  her 
possible  refusal,  that  his  question  had  been  positively 
tremulous. 

"  I  suppose  so,"  she  said  slowly.  "  Is  the  train  quite  full, 
then  ?  " 

He  looked  at  her  quite  keenly.  She  was  laughing  at 
him  with  her  eyes — an  odd  little  trick  of  hers.  He  was 
himself  again  at  once,  and  answered  mendaciously,  but 
with  emphasis — 

"Not  a  seat  anywhere.  I  shall  be  left  behind  if  you 
don't  take  me  in." 

A  word  in  the  guard's  ear  was  quite  sufficient,  but  the 
maid  looked  at  Wolfenden  suspiciously.  She  leaned  into 
the  carriage. 

"  Would  mademoiselle  prefer  that  I,  too,  travelled  with 
her  ?  "  she  inquired  in  French. 

The  girl  answered  her  in  the  same  language. 

"Certainly  not,  Celeste.  You  had  better  go  and  take 
your  seat  at  once.  We  are  just  going !  " 

The  maid  reluctantly  withdrew,  with  disapproval  very 
plainly  stamped  upon  her  dark  face.  Wolfenden  and  his 
belongings  were  bundled  in,  and  the  whistle  blew.  The 
train  moved  slowly  out  of  the  station.  They  were  off ! 

"  I  believe,"  she  said,  looking  with  a  smile  at  the  pile  of 
magazines  and  papers  littered  all  over  the  seat,  "  that  you 
are  an  impostor.  Or  perhaps  you  have  a  peculiar  taste  in 
literature ! " 

She  pointed  towards  the  Queen  and  the  Gentlewoman. 
He  was  in  high  spirits,  and  he  made  open  confession. 

"  I  saw  you  ten  minutes  ago,"  he  declared,  "  and  since 
then  I  have  been  endeavouring  to  make  myself  an  accept- 
able travelling  companion.  But  don't  begin  to  study 
the  fashions  yet,  please.  Tell  me  how  it  is  that  after 
looking  all  over  London  for  three  days  for  you,  I  find  you 
here." 


WOLF  EN  DEN'S  LUCK  97 

"It  is  the  unexpected,"  she  remarked,  "which  always 
happens.  But  after  all  there  is  nothing  mysterious  about 
it.  I  am  going  down  to  a  little  house  which  my  uncle  has 
taken,  somewhere  near  Cromer.  You  will  think  it  odd,  I 
suppose,  considering  his  deformity,  but  he  is  devoted  to 
golf,  and  some  one  has  been  telling  him  that  Norfolk  is 
the  proper  county  to  go  to." 
"  And  you  ?  "  he  asked. 
She  shook  her  head  disconsolately. 
"  I  am  afraid  I  am  not  English  enough  to  care  much 
for  games,"  she  admitted.  "  I  like  riding  and  archery,  and 
I  used  to  shoot  a  little,  but  to  go  into  the  country  at  this 
time  of  the  year  to  play  any  game  seems  to  me  positively 
barbarous.  London  is  quite  dull  enough — but  the  country 
— and  the  English  country,  too ! — well,  I  have  been 
engrossed  in  self-pity  ever  since  my  uncle  announced 
his  plans." 

"I  do  not  imagine,"  he  said  smiling,  "that  you  care 
very  much  for  England." 

"  I  do  not  imagine,"  she  admitted  promptly,  "  that  I  do. 
I  am  a  Frenchwoman,  you  see,  and  to  me  there  is  no  city 
on  earth  like  Paris,  and  no  country  like  my  own." 

"  The  women  of  your  nation,"  he  remarked,  "are  always 
patriotic.  I  have  never  met  a  Frenchwoman  who  cared 
for  England." 

"  We  have  reason  to  be  patriotic,"  she  said,  "  or  rather, 
we  had,"  she  added,  with  a  curious  note  of  sadness  in  her 
tone.  "  But,  come,  I  do  not  desire  to  talk  about  my 
country.  I  admitted  you  here  to  be  an  entertaining  com- 
panion, and  you  have  made  me  speak  already  of  the  subject 
which  is  to  me  the  most  mournful  in  the  world.  I  do  not 
wish  to  talk  any  more  about  France.  Will  you  please  think 
of  another  subject  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Sabin  is  not  with  you,"  he  remarked. 

"  He  intended  to  come.     Something  important  kept  him 

7 


98  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SAMN 

at  the  last  moment.  He  will  follow  me,  perhaps,  by  a  later 
train  to-day,  if  not  to-morrow." 

"  It  is  certainly  a  coincidence,"  he  said,  "that  you  should 
be  going  to  Cromer.  My  home  is  quite  near  there." 

"  And  you  are  going  there  now  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  am  delighted  to  say  that  I  am." 

"You  did  not  mention  it  the  other  evening,"  she  re- 
marked. "  You  talked  as  though  you  had  no  intention  at 
all  of  leaving  London." 

"  Neither  had  I  at  that  time,"  he  said.  "  I  had  a  letter 
from  home  this  morning  which  decided  me." 

She  smiled  softly. 

"Well,  it  is  strange,"  she  said.  "On  the  whole,  it  is 
perhaps  fortunate  that  you  did  not  contemplate  this  journey 
when  we  had  supper  together  the  other  night." 

He  caught  at  her  meaning,  and  laughed. 

"  It  is  more  than  fortunate,"  he  declared.  "  If  I  had 
known  of  it,  and  told  Mr.  Sabin,  you  would  not  have  been 
travelling  by  this  train  alone." 

"  I  certainly  should  not,"  she  admitted  demurely. 

He  saw  his  opportunity,  and  swiftly  availed  himself  of  it. 

"Why  does  your  uncle  object  to  me  so  much?"  he 
asked. 

"  Object  to  you  ! "  she  repeated.  "  On  the  contrary, 
I  think  that  he  rather  approves  of  you.  You  saved  his 
life,  or  something  very  much  like  it.  He  should  be  very 
grateful !  I  think  that  he  is  ! " 

"Yet,"  he  persisted,  "he  does  not  seem  to  desire  my 
acquaintance — for  you,  at  any  rate.  You  have  just  admitted, 
that  if  he  had  known  that  there  was  any  chance  of  our 
being  fellow  passengers  you  would  not  have  been  here." 

She  did  not  answer  him  immediately.  She  was  looking 
fixedly  out  of  the  window.  Her  face  seemed  to  him  more 
than  ordinarily  grave.  When  she  turned  her  head,  her 
eyes  were  thoughtful — a  little  sad. 


WOLFENDEN'S  LUCK  99 

"  You  are  quite  right,"  she  said.  "  My  uncle  does  not 
think  it  well  for  me  to  make  any  acquaintances  in  this 
country.  We  are  not  here  for  very  long.  No  doubt  he  is 
right.  He  has  at  least  reason  on  his  side.  Only  it  is  a 
little  dull  for  me,  and  it  is  not  what  I  have  been  used  to. 
Yet  there  are  sacrifices  always.  I  cannot  tell  you  any 
more.  You  must  please  not  ask  me.  You  are  here,  and 
I  am  pleased  that  you  are  here !  There !  will  not  that 
content  you  ?  " 

"  It  gives  me,"  he  answered  earnestly,  "  more  than  con- 
tentment !  It  is  happiness  ! " 

"  That  is  precisely  the  sort  of  thing,"  she  said  slowly  to 
him,  with  laughter  in  her  eyes,  "  which  you  are  not  to  say ! 
Please  understand  that ! " 

He  accepted  the  rebuke  lightly.  He  was  far  too  happy 
in  being  with  her  to  be  troubled  by  vague  limitations.  The 
present  was  good  enough  for  him,  and  he  did  his  best  to 
entertain  her.  He  noticed  with  pleasure  that  she  did  not 
even  glance  at  the  pile  of  papers  at  her  side.  They  talked 
without  intermission.  She  was  interested,  even  gay.  Yet 
he  could  not  but  notice  that  every  now  and  then,  especially 
at  any  reference  to  the  future,  her  tone  grew  graver  and  a 
shadow  passed  across  her  face.  Once  he  said  something 
which  suggested  the  possibility  of  her  living  always  in 
England.  She  had  shaken  her  head  at  once,  gently  but 
firmly. 

"  No,  I  could  never  live  in  this  country,"  she  said,  "even 
if  my  liking  for  it  grew.  It  would  be  impossible  ! " 

He  was  puzzled  for  a  moment. 

"You  think  that  you  could  never  care  for  it  enough,"  he 
suggested ;  "  yet  you  have  scarcely  had  time  to  judge  it 
fairly.  London  in  the  spring  is  gay  enough,  and  the  life  at 
some  of  our  country  houses  is  very  different  to  what  it  was 
a  few  years  ago.  Society  is  so  much  more  tolerant  and 
broader." 


100  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"It  is  scarcely  a  question,"  she  said,  "of  my  likes  or 
dislikes.  Next  to  Paris,  I  prefer  London  in  the  spring  to 
any  city  in  Europe,  and  a  week  I  spent  at  Radnett  was 
very  delightful.  But,  nevertheless,  I  could  never  live  here. 
It  is  not  my  destiny  !  " 

The  old  curiosity  was  strong  upon  him.  Radnett  was 
the  home  of  the  Duchess  of  Radnett  and  Ilchester,  who 
had  the  reputation  of  being  the  most  exclusive  hostess  in 
Europe  !  He  was  bewildered. 

"  I  would  give  a  great  deal,"  he  said  earnestly,  "  to  know 
what  you  believe  that  destiny  to  be." 

"We  are  bordering  upon  the  forbidden  subject,"  she 
reminded  him,  with  a  look  which  was  almost  reproachful. 
"  You  must  please  believe  me  when  I  tell  you,  that  for  me 
things  have  already  been  arranged  otherwise.  Come,  I 
want  you  to  tell  me  all  about  this  country  into  which  we 
are  going.  You  must  remember  that  to  me  it  is  all  new  ! " 

He  suffered  her  to  lead  the  conversation  into  other 
channels,  with  a  vague  feeling  of  disquiet.  The  mystery 
which  hung  around  the  girl  and  her  uncle  seemed  only  to 
grow  denser  as  his  desire  to  penetrate  it  grew.  At  present, 
at  any  rate,  he  was  baffled.  He  dared  ask  no  more 
questions. 

The  train  glided  into  Peterborough  station  before  either 
of  them  were  well  aware  that  they  had  entered  in  earnest 
upon  the  journey.  Wolfenden  looked  out  of  the  window 
with  amazement. 

"  Why,  we  are  nearly  half  way  there ! "  he  exclaimed. 
"How  wretched!" 

She  smiled,  and  took  up  a  magazine.  Wolfenden's 
servant  came  respectfully  to  the  window. 

"  Can  I  get  you  anything,  my  lord  ?  "  he  inquired. 

Wolfenden  shook  his  head,  and  opening  the  door,  stepped 
out  on  to  the  platform. 

"Nothing,  thanks,  Selby,"  he  said.     "You  had  better 


WOLFENDEWS  LUCK  101 

get  yourself  some  lunch.  We  don't  get  to  Deringham 
until  four  o'clock." 

The  man  raised  his  hat  and  turned  away.  In  a  moment, 
however,  he  was  back  again. 

"  You  will  pardon  my  mentioning  it,  my  lord,"  he  said, 
"  but  the  young  lady's  maid  has  been  travelling  in  my 
carriage,  and  a  nice  fidget  she's  been  in  all  the  way.  She's 
been  muttering  to  herself  in  French,  and  she  seems  terribly 
frightened  about  something  or  other.  The  moment  the 
train  stopped  here,  she  rushed  off  to  the  telegraph  office." 

"She  seems  a  little  excitable,"  Wolfenden  remarked. 
"  All  right,  Selby,  you'd  better  hurry  up  and  get  what  you 
want  to  eat." 

"  Certainly,  my  lord  ;  and  perhaps  your  lordship  knows 
that  there  is  a  flower-stall  in  the  corner  there." 

Wolfenden  nodded  and  hurried  off.  He  returned  to  the 
carriage  just  as  the  train  was  moving  off,  with  a  handful  of 
fresh,  wet  violets,  whose  perfume  seemed  instantly  to  fill 
the  compartment.  The  girl  held  out  her  hands  with  a 
little  exclamation  of  pleasure. 

"  What  a  delightful  travelling  companion  you  are,"  she 
declared.  "  I  think  these  English  violets  are  the  sweetest 
flowers  in  the  world." 

She  held  them  up  to  her  lips.  Wolfenden  was  looking 
at  a  paper  bag  in  her  lap. 

"  May  I  inquire  what  that  is  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Buns  !  "  she  answered.  "  You  must  not  think  that 
because  I  am  a  girl  I  am  never  hungry.  It  is  two  o'clock, 
and  I  am  positively  famished.  I  sent  my  maid  for  them." 

He  smiled,  and  sweeping  away  the  bundles  of  rugs  and 
coats,  produced  the  luncheon  basket  which  he  had  secured 
at  King's  Cross,  and  opening  it,  spread  out  the  contents. 

"  For  two  ! "  she  exclaimed,  "  and  what  a  delightful 
looking  salad !  Where  on  earth  did  that  come  from  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  am  no  magician,"  he  exclaimed.     "  I  ordered 


102  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

the  basket  at  King's  Cross,  after  I  had  seen  you.  Let  me 
spread  the  cloth  here.  My  dressing-case  will  make  a 
capital  table  ! " 

They  picnicked  together  gaily.  It  seemed  to  Wolfenden 
that  chicken  and  tongue  had  never  tasted  so  well  before, 
or  claret,  at  three  shillings  the  bottle,  so  full  and  delicious. 
They  cleared  everything  up,  and  then  sat  and  talked  over 
the  cigarette  which  she  had  insisted  upon.  But  although 
he  tried  more  than  once,  he  could  not  lead  the  conversation 
into  any  serious  channel — she  would  not  talk  of  her  past, 
she  distinctly  avoided  the  future.  Once,  when  he  had 
made  a  deliberate  effort  to  gain  some  knowledge  as  to  her 
earlier  surroundings,  she  reproved  him  with  a  silence  so 
marked  that  he  hastened  to  talk  of  something  else. 

"Your  maid,"  he  said,  "  is  greatly  distressed  about  some- 
thing. She  sent  a  telegram  off  at  Peterborough.  I  hope 
that  your  uncle  will  not  make  himself  unpleasant  because 
of  my  travelling  with  you." 

She  smiled  at  him  quite  undisturbed. 

"Poor  Celeste,"  she  said.  "Your  presence  here  has 
upset  her  terribly.  Mr.  Sabin  has  some  rather  strange 
notions  about  me,  and  I  am  quite  sure  that  he  would 
rather  have  sent  me  down  in  a  special  train  than  have  had 
this  happen.  You  need  not  look  so  serious  about  it." 

"  It  is  only  on  your  account,"  he  assured  her. 

"  Then  you  need  not  look  serious  at  all,"  she  continued. 
"  I  am  not  under  my  uncle's  jurisdiction.  In  fact,  I  am 
quite  an  independent  person." 

"  I  am  delighted  to  hear  it,"  he  said  heartily.  "  I  should 
imagine  that  Mr.  Sabin  would  not  be  at  all  a  pleasant 
person  to  be  on  bad  terms  with." 

She  smiled  thoughtfully. 

"  There  are  a  good  many  people,"  she  said,  "  who  would 
agree  with  you.  There  are  a  great  many  people  in  the 
world  who  have  cause  to  regret  having  offended  him.  Let 


WOLF  EN  DEN'S  LUCK  103 

us  talk  of  something  else.  I  believe  that  I  can  see  the 
sea!" 

They  were  indeed  at  Cromer.  He  found  a  carriage  for 
her,  and  collected  her  belongings.  He  was  almost  amused 
at  her  absolute  indolence  in  the  midst  of  the  bustle  of 
arrival.  She  was  evidently  unused  to  doing  the  slightest 
thing  for  herself.  He  took  the  address  which  she  gave  to 
him,  and  repeated  it  to  the  driver.  Then  he  asked  the 
question  which  had  been  trembling  many  times  upon 
his  lips. 

"  May  I  come  and  see  you  ?  " 

She  had  evidently  been  considering  the  matter,  for  she 
answered  him  at  once  and  deliberately. 

"  I  should  like  you  to,"  she  said ;  "  but  if  for  any  reason 
it  did  not  suit  my  uncle  to  have  you  come,  it  would  not  be 
pleasant  for  either  of  us.  He  is  going  to  play  golf  on  the 
Deringham  links.  You  will  be  certain  to  see  him  there, 
and  you  must  be  guided  by  his  manner  towards  you." 

"  And  if  he  is  still — as  he  was  in  London — must  this  be 
goodbye,  then  ?  "  he  asked  earnestly. 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  faint  colour  in  her  cheeks  and 
a  softer  light  in  her  proud,  clear  eyes. 

"Well,"  she  said,  "goodbye  would  be  the  last  word 
which  could  be  spoken  between  us.  But,  n'importe,  we 
shall  see." 

She  flashed  a  suddenly  brilliant  smile  upon  him,  and 
leaned  back  amongst  the  cushions.  The  carriage  drove 
off,  and  Wolfenden,  humming  pleasantly  to  himself,  stepped 
into  the  dog-cart  which  was  waiting  for  him. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

A  GREAT   WORK 

THE  Countess  of  Deringham  might  be  excused  for  consider- 
ing herself  the  most  unfortunate  woman  in  England.  In  a 
single  week  she  had  passed  from  the  position  of  one  of  the 
most  brilliant  leaders  of  English  society  to  be  the  keeper  of 
a  recluse,  whose  sanity  was  at  least  doubtful.  Her  hus- 
band, Admiral  the  Earl  of  Deringham,  had  been  a  man  of 
iron  nerve  and  constitution,  with  a  splendid  reputation,  and 
undoubtedly  a  fine  seaman.  The  horror  of  a  single  day 
had  broken  up  his  life.  He  had  been  the  awe-stricken 
witness  of  a  great  naval  catastrophe,  in  which  many  of  his 
oldest  friends  and  companions  had  gone  to  the  bottom  of 
the  sea  before  his  eyes,  together  with  nearly  a  thousand 
British  seamen.  The  responsibility  for  the  disaster  lay 
chiefly  from  those  who  had  perished  in  it,  yet  some  small 
share  of  the  blame  was  fastened  upon  the  onlookers,  and 
he  himself,  as  admiral  in  command,  had  not  altogether 
escaped.  From  the  moment  when  they  had  led  him  down 
from  the  bridge  of  his  flagship,  grey  and  fainting,  he  had 
been  a  changed  man.  He  had  never  recovered  from  the 
shock.  He  retired  from  active  service  at  once,  under  a 
singular  and  marvellously  persistent  delusion.  Briefly  he 
believed,  or  professed  to  believe,  that  half  the  British  fleet 
had  perished,  and  that  the  country  was  at  the  mercy  of  the 
first  great  Power  who  cared  to  send  her  warships  up  the 

Thames.      It  was  a  question  whether   he  was  really  in- 

104 


A  GREAT  WORK  105 

sane ;  on  any  ordinary  topic  his  views  were  the  views  of  a 
rational  man,  but  the  task  which  he  proceeded  to  set 
himself  was  so  absorbing  that  any  other  subject  seemed 
scarcely  to  come  within  the  horizon,  of  his  comprehension. 
He  imagined  himself  selected  by  no  less  a  person  than  the 
Secretary  for  War,  to  devote  the  rest  of  his  life  to  the  ac- 
complishment of  a  certain  undertaking !  Practically  his 
mission  was  to  prove  by  figures,  plans,  and  naval  details 
(unknown  to  the  general  public),  the  complete  helplessness 
of  the  .empire.  He  bought  a  yacht  and  commenced  a 
series  of  short  cruises,  lasting  over  two  years,  during  the 
whole  of  which  time  his  wife  was  his  faithful  and  constant 
companion.  They  visited  in  turn  each  one  of  the  fortified 
ports  of  the  country,  winding  up  with  a  general  inspection 
of  every  battleship  and  cruiser  within  British  waters.  Then, 
with  huge  piles  of  amassed  information  before  him,  he 
settled  down  in  Norfolk  to  the  framing  of  his  report,  still 
under  the  impression  that  the  whole  country  was  anxiously 
awaiting  it.  His  wife  remained  with  him  then,  listening 
daily  to  the  news  of  his  progress,  and  careful  never  to 
utter  a  single  word  of  discouragement  or  disbelief  in  the 
startling  facts  which  he  sometimes  put  before  her.  The 
best  room  in  the  house,  the  great  library,  was  stripped 
perfectly  bare  and  fitted  up  for  his  study,  and  a  typist  was 
engaged  to  copy  out  the  result  of  his  labours  in  fair  form. 
Lately,  the  fatal  results  to  England  which  would  follow  the 
public  disclosure  of  her  awful  helplessness  had  weighed 
heavily  upon  him,  and  he  was  beginning  to  live  in  the  fear 
of  betrayal.  The  room  in  which  he  worked  was  fitted  with 
iron  shutters,  and  was  guarded  night  and  day.  He  saw  no 
visitors,  and  was  annoyed  if  any  were  permitted  to  enter 
the  house.  He  met  his  wife  only  at  dinner  time,  for  which 
meal  he  dressed  in  great  state,  and  at  which  no  one  else  was 
ever  allowed  to  be  present.  He  suffered,  when  they  were 
alone,  no  word  to  pass  his  lips,  save  with  reference  to  the 


io6  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

subject  of  his  labours ;  it  is  certain  he  looked  upon  himself 
as  the  discoverer  of  terrible  secrets.  Any  remark  ad- 
dressed to  him  upon  other  matters  utterly  failed  to  make 
any  impression.  If  he  heard  it  he  did  not  reply.  He 
would  simply  look  puzzled,  and,  as  speedily  as  possible 
withdraw.  He  was  sixty  years  of  age,  of  dignified  and 
kindly  appearance;  a  handsome  man  still,  save  that  the 
fire  of  his  blue  eyes  was  quenched,  and  the  firm 
lines  of  his  commanding  mouth  had  become  tremulous. 
Wolfenden,  on  his  arrival,  was  met  in  the  hall  by  his  mother, 
who  carried  him  off  at  once  to  have  tea  in  her  own  room. 
As  he  took  a  low  chair  opposite  to  her  he  was  conscious 
at  once  of  a  distinct  sense  of  self-reproach.  Although  still 
a  handsome  woman,  the  Countess  of  Deringham  was  only 
the  wreck  of  her  former  brilliant  self.  Wolfenden,  knowing 
what  her  life  must  be,  under  its  altered  circumstances, 
could  scarcely  wonder  at  it.  The  black  hair  was  still  only 
faintly  streaked  with  grey,  and  her  figure  was  as  slim  and 
upright  as  ever.  But  there  were  lines  on  her  forehead  and 
about  her  eyes,  her  cheeks  were  thinner,  and  even  her  hands 
were  wasted.  He  looked  at  her  in  silent  pity,  and  although 
a  man  of  singularly  undemonstrative  habits,  he  took  her 
hand  in  his  and  pressed  it  gently.  Then  he  set  himself  to 
talk  as  cheerfully  as  possible. 

"  There  is  nothing  much  wrong  physically  with  the 
Admiral,  I  hope  ?  "  he  said,  calling  him  by  the  name  they 
still  always  gave  him.  "I  saw  him  at  the  window  as  I 
came  round.  By  the  by,  what  is  that  extraordinary  look- 
ing affair  like  a  sentry-box  doing  there  ?  " 

The  Countess  sighed. 

"  That  is  part  of  what  I  have  to  tell  you,"  she  said.  "  A 
sentry-box  is  exactly  what  it  is,  and  if  you  had  looked 
inside  you  would  have  seen  Dunn  or  Heggs  there  keeping 
guard.  In  health  your  father  seems  as  well  as  ever;  mentally, 
I  am  afraid  that  he  is  worse.  I  fear  that  he  is  getting 


A  GREAT  WORK  107 

very  bad  indeed.  That  is  why  I  have  sent  for  you, 
Wolf!" 

Wolfenden  was  seriously  and  genuinely  concerned. 
Surely  his  mother  had  had  enough  to  bear. 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  he  said.  "  Your  letter  prepared  me 
a  little  for  this ;  you  must  tell  me  all  about  it." 

"He  has  suddenly  become  the  victim,"  the  Countess 
said,  "of  a  new  and  most  extraordinary  delusion.  How  it 
came  to  pass  I  cannot  exactly  tell,  but  this  is  what  hap- 
pened. He  has  a  bed,  you  know,  made  up  in  an  ante- 
room, leading  from  the  library,  and  he  sleeps  there 
generally.  Early  this  morning  the  whole  house  was 
awakened  by  the  sound  of  two  revolver  shots.  I  hurried 
down  in  my  dressing-gown,  and  found  some  of  the  servants 
already  outside  the  library  door,  which  was  locked  and 
barred  on  the  inside.  When  he  heard  my  voice  he  let  me 
in.  The  room  was  in  partial  darkness  and  some  disorder. 
He  had  a  smoking  revolver  in  his  hand,  and  he  was 
muttering  to  himself  so  fast  that  I  could  not  understand  a 
word  he  said.  The  chest  which  holds  all  his  maps  and 
papers  had  been  dragged  into  the  middle  of  the  room,  and 
the  iron  staple  had  been  twisted,  as  though  with  a  heavy 
blow.  I  saw  that  the  lamp  was  flickering  and  a  current  of 
air  was  in  the  room,  and  when  I  looked  towards  the  window 
I  found  that  the  shutters  were  open  and  one  of  the  sashes 
had  been  lifted.  All  at  once  he  became  coherent. 

" '  Send  for  Morton  and  Philip  Dunn  ! '  he  cried.  *  Let 
the  shrubbery  and  all  the  Home  Park  be  searched.  Let 
no  one  pass  out  of  either  of  the  gates.  There  have  been 
thieves  here ! ' 

"  I  gave  his  orders  to  Morton.  '  Where  is  Richardson  ? ' 
I  asked.  Richardson  was  supposed  to  have  been  watching 
outside.  Before  he  could  answer  Richardson  came  in 
through  the  window.  His  forehead  was  bleeding,  as 
though  from  a  blow. 


io8  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"  '  What  has  happened,  Richardson  ?'  I  asked  The  man 
hesitated  and  looked  at  your  father.  Your  father  answered 
instead. 

" '  I  woke  up  five  minutes  ago,'  he  cried,  '  and  found  two 
men  here.  How  they  got  past  Richardson  I  don't  know, 
but  they  were  in  the  room,  and  they  had  dragged  my  chest 
out  there,  and  had  forced  a  crowbar  through  the  lock  !  I 
was  just  in  time ;  I  hit  one  man  in  the  arm  and  he  fired 
back.  Then  they  bolted  right  past  Richardson.  They 
must  have  nearly  knocked  you  down.  You  must  have  been 
asleep,  you  idiot,'  he  cried,  'or  you  could  have  stopped 
them ! ' 

"  I  turned  to  Richardson  ;  he  did  not  say  a  word,  but  he 
looked  at  me  meaningly.  The  Admiral  was  examining  his 
chest,  so  I  drew  Richardson  on  one  side. 

" '  Is  this  true,  Richardson  ? '  I  asked.  The  man  shook 
his  head. 

" '  No,  your  ladyship,'  he  said  bluntly,  '  it  ain't ;  there's 
no  two  men  been  here  at  all !  The  master  dragged  the 
chest  out  himself;  I  heard  him  doing  it,  and  I  saw  the  light, 
so  I  left  my  box  and  stepped  into  the  room  to  see  what 
was  wrong.  Directly  he  saw  me  he  yelled  out  and  let  fly  at 
me  with  his  revolver !  It's  a  wonder  I'm  alive,  for  one  of 
the  bullets  grazed  my  temple ! ' 

"  Then  he  went  on  to  say  that  he  would  like  to  leave, 
that  no  wages  were  good  enough  to  be  shot  at,  and  plainly 
hinted  that  he  thought  your  father  ought  to  be  locked  up. 
I  talked  him  over,  and  then  got  the  Admiral  to  go  back  to 
bed.  We  had  the  place  searched  as  a  matter  of  form,  but 
of  course  there  was  no  sign  of  anybody.  He  had  imagined 
the  whole  thing !  It  is  a  mercy  that  he  did  not  kill 
Richardson ! " 

"  This  is  very  serious,"  Wolfenden  said  gravely.  "  What 
about  his  revolver  ?  " 

"  I  managed  to  secure  that,"  the  Countess  said.     "  It  is 


A  GREAT  WORK  109 

locked  up  in  my  drawer,  but  I  am  afraid  that  he  may  ask 
for  it  at  any  moment." 

"  We  can  make  that  all  right,"  Wolfenden  said ;  "  I  know 
where  there  are  some  blank  cartridges  in  the  gun-room,  and 
I  will  reload  the  revolver  with  them.  By  the  by,  what 
does  Blatherwick  say  about  all  this  ? " 

"  He  is  almost  as  worried  as  I  am,  poor  little  man,"  Lady 
Deringham  said.  "  I  am  afraid  every  day  that  he  will  give 
it  up  and  leave.  We  are  paying  him  five  hundred  a  year, 
but  it  must  be  miserable  work  for  him.  It  is  really  almost 
amusing,  though,  to  see  how  terrified  he  is  at  your  father. 
He  positively  shakes  when  he  speaks  to  him." 

"  What  does  he  have  to  do  ?  "  Wolfenden  asked. 

"Oh,  draw  maps  and  make  calculations  and  copy  all 
sorts  of  things.  You  see  it  is  wasted  and  purposeless  work, 
that  is  what  makes  it  so  hard  for  the  poor  man." 

"  You  are  quite  sure,  I  suppose,"  Wolfenden  asked,  after 
a  moment's  hesitation,  "  that  it  is  all  wasted  work  ?  " 

"  Absolutely,"  the  Countess  declared.  "  Mr.  Blatherwick 
brings  me,  sometimes  in  despair,  sheets  upon  which  he 
has  been  engaged  for  days.  They  are  all  just  a  hopeless 
tangle  of  figures  and  wild  calculations  !  Nobody  could 
possibly  make  anything  coherent  out  of  them." 

"  I  wonder,"  Wolfenden  suggested  thoughtfully,  "whether 
it  would  be  a  good  idea  to  get  Denvers,  the  secretary,  to 
write  and  ask  him  not  to  go  on  with  the  work  for  the 
present.  He  could  easily  make  some  excuse — say  that  it 
was  attracting  attention  which  they  desired  to  avoid,  or 
something  of  that  sort !  Denvers  is  a  good  fellow,  and 
he  and  the  Admiral  were  great  friends  once,  weren't 
they?" 

The  Countess  shook  her  head. 

"  I  am  afraid  that  would  not  do  at  all,"  she  said.  "Besides, 
out  of  pure  good  nature,  of  course,  Denvers  has  already 
encouraged  him.  Only  last  week  he  wrote  him  a  friendly 


no  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

letter  hoping  that  he  was  getting  on,  and  telling  him 
how  interested  every  one  in  the  War  Office  was  to  hear 
about  his  work.  He  has  known  about  it  all  the  time,  you 
see.  Then,  too,  if  the  occupation  were  taken  from  your 
father,  I  am  afraid  he  would  break  down  altogether." 

"Of  course  there  is  that  to  be  feared,"  Wolfenden 
admitted.  "  I  wonder  what  put  this  new  delusion  into 
his  head?  Does  he  suspect  any  one  in  particular?" 

The  Countess  shook  her  head. 

"  I  do  not  think  so ;  of  course  it  was  Miss  Merton  who 
started  it.  He  quite  believes  that  she  took  copies  of  all 
the  work  she  did  here,  but  he  was  so  pleased  with  himself 
at  the  idea  of  having  found  her  out,  that  he  has  troubled 
very  little  about  it.  He  seems  to  think  that  she  had  not 
reached  the  most  important  part  of  his  work,  and  he  is 
copying  that  himself  now  by  hand." 

"  But  outside  the  house  has  he  no  suspicions  at  all  ?  " 

"Not  that  I  know  of;  not  any  definite  suspicion.  He 
was  talking  last  night  of  Duchesne,  the  great  spy  and 
adventurer,  in  a  rambling  sort  of  way.  '  Duchesne  would 
be  the  man  to  get  hold  of  my  work  if  he  knew  of  it,'  he 
kept  on  saying.  '  But  none  must  know  of  it !  The  news- 
papers must  be  quiet !  It  is  a  terrible  danger  ! '  He 
talked  like  that  for  some  time.  No,  I  do  not  think  that 
he  suspects  anybody.  It  is  more  a  general  uneasiness." 

"  Poor  old  chap  ! "  Wolfenden  said  softly.  "  What  does 
Dr.  Whitlett  think  of  him  ?  Has  he  seen  him  lately  ?  I 
wonder  if  there  is  any  chance  of  his  getting  over  it?" 

"  None  at  all,"  she  answered.  "  Dr.  Whitlett  is  quite 
frank  ;  he  will  never  recover  what  he  has  lost — he  will 
probably  lose  more.  But  come,  there  is  the  dressing  bell. 
You  will  see  him  for  yourself  at  dinner.  Whatever  you 
do  don't  be  late — he  hates  any  one  to  be  a  minute  behind 
time." 


CHAPTER   XIV 

THE   TEMPTING   OF   MR.    BLATHERWICK 

WOLFENDEN  was  careful  to  reach  the  hall  before  the  dinner 
gong  had  sounded.  His  father  greeted  him  warmly,  and 
Wolfenden  was  surprised  to  see  so  little  outward  change  in 
him.  He  was  carefully  dressed,  well  groomed  in  every 
respect,  and  he  wore  a  delicate  orchid  in  his  button-hole. 

During  dinner  he  discussed  the  little  round  of  London 
life  and  its  various  social  events  with  perfect  sanity,  and 
permitted  himself  his  usual  good-natured  grumble  at  Wol- 
fenden for  his  dilatoriness  in  the  choice  of  a  profession. 

He  did  not  once  refer  to  the  subject  of  his  own  weakness 
until  dessert  had  been  served,  when  he  passed  the  claret  to 
Wolfenden  without  filling  his  own  glass. 

"You  will  excuse  my  not  joining  you,"  he  said  to  his  son, 
"  but  I  have  still  three  or  four  hours'  writing  to  do,  and  such 
work  as  mine  requires  a  very  clear  head — you  can  understand 
that,  I  daresay." 

Wolfenden  assented  in  silence.  For  the  first  time,  perhaps, 
he  fully  realised  the  ethical  pity  of  seeing  a  man  so  distin- 
guished the  victim  of  a  hopeless  and  incurable  mania.  He 
watched  him  sitting  at  the  head  of  his  table,  courteous, 
gentle,  dignified;  noted  too  the  air  of  intellectual  abstrac- 
tion which  followed  upon  his  last  speech,  and  in  which  he 
seemed  to  dwell  for  the  rest  of  the  time  during  which  they 
sat  together.  Instinctively  he  knew  what  disillusionment 
must  mean  for  him.  Sooner  anything  than  that.  It  must 


112  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

never  be.  Never!  he  repeated  firmly  to  himself  as  he 
smoked  a  solitary  cigar  later  on  in  the  empty  smoking- 
room.  Whatever  happens  he  must  be  saved  from  that.  There 
was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  in  response  to  his  invitation 
to  enter,  Mr.  Blatherwick  came  in.  Wolfenden,  who  was  in 
the  humour  to  prefer  any  one's  society  to  his  own,  greeted 
him  pleasantly,  and  wheeled  up  an  easy  chair  opposite  to 
his  own. 

"Come  to  have  a  smoke,  Blatherwick?"  he  said.  "That's 
right.  Try  one  of  these  cigars;  the  governor's  are  all  right, 
but  they  are  in  such  shocking  condition." 

Mr.  Blatherwick  accepted  one  with  some  hesitation, 
and  puffed  slowly  at  it  with  an  air  of  great  deliberation. 
He  was  a  young  man  of  mild  demeanour  and  deport- 
ment, and  clerical  aspirations.  He  wore  thick  spectacles, 
and  suffered  from  chronic  biliousness. 

"  I  am  much  obliged  to  you,  Lord  Wolfenden,"  he  said. 
"  I  seldom  smoke  cigars — it  is  not  good  for  my  sight.  An 
occasional  cigarette  is  all  I  permit  myself." 

Wolfenden  groaned  inwardly,  for  his  regalias  were  price- 
less and  not  to  be  replaced  ;  but  he  said  nothing. 

"  I  have  taken  the  liberty,  Lord  Wolfenden,"  Mr.  Blather- 
wick continued,  "  of  bringing  for  your  inspection  a  letter  I 
received  this  morning.  It  is,  I  presume,  intended  for  a 
practical  joke,  and  I  need  not  say  that  I  intend  to  treat  it 
as  such.  At  the  same  time  as  you  were  in  the  house, 
I  imagined  that  no — er — harm  would  ensue  if  I  ventured  to 
ask  for  your  opinion." 

He  handed  an  open  letter  to  Wolfenden,  who  took  it  and 

read  it  through.  It  was  dated  " London,"  and  bore 

the  postmark  of  the  previous  day. 

"  MR.  ARNOLD  BLATHERWICK. 

"DEAR  SIR, — The  writer  of  this  letter  is  prepared  to 
offer  you  one  thousand   pounds  in  return   for  a  certain 


THE  TEMPTING  OF  MR.  BLATHERWICK         113 

service  which  you  are  in  a  position  to  perform.  The 
details  of  that  service  can  only  be  explained  to  you  in 
a  personal  interview,  but  broadly  speaking  it  is  as 
follows : — 

"You  are  engaged  as  private  secretary  to  the  Earl  of 
Deringham,  lately  an  admiral  in  the  British  Navy.  Your 
duties,  it  is  presumed,  are  to  copy  and  revise  papers  and 
calculations  having  reference  to  the  coast  defences  and 
navy  of  Great  Britain.  The  writer  is  himself  engaged 
upon  a  somewhat  similar  task,  but  not  having  had  the 
facilities  accorded  to  Lord  Deringham,  is  without  one 
or  two  important  particulars.  The  service  required  of 
you  is  the  supplying  of  these,  and  for  this  you  are  offered 
one  thousand  pounds. 

"  As  a  man  of  honour  you  may  possibly  hesitate  to 
at  once  embrace  this  offer.  You  need  not !  Lord  Dering- 
ham's  work  is  practically  useless,  for  it  is  the  work  of  a 
lunatic.  You  yourself,  from  your  intimate  association  with 
him,  must  know  that  this  statement  is  true.  He  will  never 
be  able  to  give  coherent  form  to  the  mass  of  statistics  and 
information  which  he  has  collected.  Therefore  you  do  him 
no  harm  in  supplying  these  few  particulars  to  one  who  will 
be  able  to  make  use  of  them.  The  sum  you  are  offered  is 
out  of  all  proportion  to  their  value — a  few  months'  delay 
and  they  could  easily  be  acquired  by  the  writer  without  the 
expenditure  of  a  single  halfpenny.  That,  however,  is  not 
the  point. 

"  I  am  rich  and  I  have  no  time  to  spare.  Hence  this 
offer.  I  take  it  that  you  are  a  man  of  common  sense,  and 
I  take  it  for  granted,  therefore,  that  you  will  not  hesitate  to 
accept  this  offer.  Your  acquiescence  will  be  assumed  if  you 
lunch  at  the  Grand  Hotel,  Cromer,  between  one  and  two, 
on  Thursday  following  the  receipt  of  this  letter.  You  will 
then  be  put  in  full  possession  of  all  the  information  neces- 
sary to  the  carrying  out  of  the  proposals  made  to  you.  You 

8 


H4  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

are  well  known  to  the  writer,  who  will   take  the  liberty 
of  joining  you  at  your  table." 

The  letter  ended  thus  somewhat  abruptly.  Wolfenden, 
who  had  only  glanced  it  through  at  first,  now  re-read  it 
carefully.  Then  he  handed  it  back  to  Blatherwick. 

"  It  is  a  very  curious  communication,"  he  said  thought- 
fully, "a  very  curious  communication  indeed.  I  do  not 
know  what  to  think  of  it." 

Mr.  Blatherwick  laid  down  his  cigar  with  an  air  ot 
great  relief.  He  would  have  liked  to  have  thrown  it  away, 
but  dared  not. 

"It  must  surely  be  intended  for  a  practical  joke,  Lord 
Wolfenden,"  he  said.  "  Either  that,  or  my  correspondent 
has  been  ludicrously  misinformed." 

"You  do  not  consider,  then,  that  my  father's  work  is 
of  any  value  at  all  ?  "  Wolfenden  asked. 

Mr.  Blatherwick  coughed  apologetically,  and  watched  the 
extinction  of  the  cigar  by  his  side  with  obvious  satisfaction. 

"  You  would,  I  am  sure,  prefer,"  he  said,  "  that  I  gave  you 
a  perfectly  straightforward  answer  to  that  question.  I — er 
— cannot  conceive  that  the  work  upon  which  his  lordship 
and  I  are  engaged  can  be  of  the  slightest  interest  or  use  to 
anybody.  I  can  assure  you,  Lord  Wolfenden,  that  my 
brain  at  times  reels — positively  reels — from  the  extraordinary 
nature  of  the  manuscripts  which  your  father  has  passed  on 
to  me  to  copy.  It  is  not  that  they  are  merely  technical, 
they  are  absolutely  and  entirely  meaningless.  You  ask  me 
for  my  opinion,  Lord  Wolfenden,  and  I  conceive  it  to  be 
my  duty  to  answer  you  honestly.  I  am  quite  sure  that  his 
lordship  is  not  in  a  fit  state  of  mind  to  undertake  any 
serious  work." 

"  The  person  who  wrote  that  letter,"  Wolfenden  remarked, 
"  thought  otherwise." 

"The  person   who  wrote  that  letter,"  Mr.   Blatherwick 


THE  TEMPTING  OF  MR.  BLATHERWICK         115 

retorted  quickly,  "  if  indeed  it  was  written  in  good  faith,  is 
scarcely  likely  to  know  so  much  about  his  lordship's  condi- 
tion of  mind  as  I,  who  have  spent  the  greater  portion 
of  every  day  for  three  months  with  him." 

"Do  you  consider  that  my  father  is  getting  worse, 
Mr.  Blatherwick  ? "  Wolfenden  asked. 

"A  week  ago,"  Mr.  Blatherwick  said,  "I  should  have 
replied  that  his  lordship's  state  of  mind  was  exactly  the  same 
as  when  I  first  came  here.  But  there  has  been  a  change  for 
the  worse  during  the  last  week.  It  commenced  with  his 
sudden,  and  I  am  bound  to  say,  unfounded  suspicions  of 
Miss  Merton,  whom  I  believe  to  be  a  most  estimable  and 
worthy  young  lady." 

Mr.  Blatherwick  paused,  and  appeared  to  be  troubled 
with  a  slight  cough.  The  smile,  which  Wolfenden  was  not 
altogether  able  to  conceal,  seemed  somewhat  to  increase 
his  embarrassment. 

"  The  extraordinary  occurrence  of  last  night,  which  her 
ladyship  has  probably  detailed  to  you,"  Mr.  Blatherwick 
continued,  "was  the  next  development  of  what,  I  fear, 
we  can  only  regard  as  downright  insanity.  I  regret  having 
to  speak  so  plainly,  but  I  am  afraid  that  any  milder  phrase 
would  be  inapplicable." 

"  I  am  very  sorry  to  hear  this,"  Wolfenden  remarked 
gravely. 

"  Under  the  circumstances,"  Mr.  Blatherwick  said,  pick- 
ing up  his  cigar  which  was  now  extinct,  and  immediately 
laying  it  down  again,  "I  trust  that  you  and  Lady  Dering- 
ham  will  excuse  my  not  giving  the  customary  notice  of  my 
desire  to  leave.  It  is  of  course  impossible  for  me  to 
continue  to  draw  a — er — a  stipend  such  as  I  am  in  receipt 
of  for  services  so  ludicrously  inadequate." 

"  Lady  Deringham  will  be  sorry  to  have  you  go,"  Wolfen- 
den said.  "  Couldn't  you  put  up  with  it  a  little  longer  ?  " 

"I  would  much  prefer  to  leave,"  Mr.  Blatherwick  said 


n6  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

decidedly.  "I  am  not  physically  strong,  and  I  must 
confess  that  his  lordship's  attitude  at  times  positively 
alarms  me.  I  fear  that  there  is  no  doubt  that  he  com- 
mitted an  unprovoked  assault  last  night  upon  that 
unfortunate  keeper.  There  is — er — no  telling  whom  he 
might  select  for  his  next  victim.  If  quite  convenient, 
Lord  Wolfenden,  I  should  like  to  leave  to-morrow  by  an 
early  train." 

"  Oh !  you  can't  go  so  soon  as  that,"  Wolfenden  said. 
"  How  about  this  letter? " 

"  You  can  take  any  steps  you  think  proper  with  regard  to 
it,"  Mr.  Blatherwick  answered  nervously.  "  Personally, 
I  have  nothing  to  do  with  it.  I  thought  of  going  to  spend 
a  week  with  an  aunt  of  mine  in  Cornwall,  and  I  should  like 
to  leave  by  the  early  train  to-morrow." 

Wolfenden  could  scarcely  keep  from  laughing,  although 
he  was  a  little  annoyed. 

"  Look  here,  Blatherwick,"  he  said,  "  you  must  help  me 
a  little  before  you  go,  there's  a  good  fellow.  I  don't  doubt 
for  a  moment  what  you  say  about  the  poor  old  governor's 
condition  of  mind ;  but  at  the  same  time  it's  rather  an  odd 
thing,  isn't  it,  that  his  own  sudden  fear  of  having  his  work 
stolen  is  followed  up  by  the  receipt  of  this  letter  to  you? 
There  is  some  one,  at  any  rate,  who  places  a  very  high  value 
upon  his  manuscripts.  I  must  say  that  I  should  like  to 
know  whom  that  letter  came  from." 

"  I  can  assure  you,"  Mr.  Blatherwick  said,  "  that  I  have 
not  the  faintest  idea." 

"Of  course  you  haven't,"  Wolfenden  assented,  a  little 
impatiently.  "  But  don't  you  see  how  easy  it  will  be  for  us 
to  find  out  ?  You  must  go  to  the  Grand  Hotel  on  Thurs- 
day for  lunch,  and  meet  this  mysterious  person." 

"I  would  very  much  rather  not,"  Mr.  Blatherwick  de- 
clared promptly.  "  I  should  feel  exceedingly  uncomfort- 
able ;  I  should  not  like  it  at  all  1 " 


THE  TEMPTING  OF  MR.  BLATHERWICK         117 

"  Look  here,"  Wolfenden  said  persuasively  "  I  must 
find  out  who  wrote  that  letter,  and  can  only  do  so  with 
your  help.  You  need  only  be  there,  I  will  come 
up  directly  I  have  marked  the  man  who  comes  to  your 
table.  Your  presence  is  all  that  is  required;  and  I  shall 
take  it  as  a  favour  if  you  will  allow  me  to  make  you  a 
present  of  a  fifty-pound  note." 

Mr.  Blatherwick  flushed  a  little  and  hesitated.  He  had 
brothers  and  sisters,  whose  bringing  up  was  a  terrible 
strain  upon  the  slim  purse  of  his  father,  a  country  clergy- 
man, and  a  great  deal  could  be  done  with  fifty  pounds.  It 
was  against  his  conscience  as  well  as  his  inclinations  to 
remain  in  a  post  where  his  duties  were  a  farce,  but  this  was 
different. 

He  sighed. 

"You  are  very  generous,  Lord  Wolfenden,"  he  said.  "  I 
will  stay  until  after  Thursday." 

"  There's  a  good  fellow,"  Wolfenden  said,  much  relieved. 
"  Have  another  cigar?  " 

Mr.  Blatherwick  rose  hastily,  and  shook  his  head.  "  You 
must  excuse  me,  if  you  please,"  he  said.  "  I  will  not  smoke 
any  more.  I  think  if  you  will  not  mind " 

Wolfenden  turned  to  the  window  and  held  up  his  hand. 

"  Listen ! "  he  said.  "  Is  that  a  carriage  at  this  time  of 
night  ?  " 

A  carriage  it  certainly  was,  passing  by  the  window.  In  a 
moment  they  heard  it  draw  up  at  the  front  door,  and  some 
one  alighted. 

"  Odd  time  for  callers,"  Wolfenden  remarked. 

Mr.  Blatherwick  did  not  reply.  He,  too,  was  listening. 
In  a  moment  they  heard  the  rustling  of  a  woman's  skirts 
outside,  and  the  smoking-room  door  opened. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  COMING   AND   GOING   OF   MR.    FRANKLIN   WILMOT 

BOTH  men  looked  up  as  Lady  Deringham  entered  the 
room,  carefully  closing  the  door  behind  her.  She  had  a 
card  in  her  hand,  and  an  open  letter. 

"  Wolfenden,"  she  said.  "  I  am  so  glad  that  you  are 
here.  It  is  most  fortunate  !  Something  very  singular  has 
happened.  You  will  be  able  to  tell  me  what  to  do." 

Mr.  Blatherwick  rose  quietly  and  left  the  room. 

Wolfenden  was  all  attention. 

"  Some  one  has  just  arrived,"  he  remarked. 

"A  gentleman,  a  complete  stranger,"  she  assented. 
"This  is  his  card.  He  seemed  surprised  that  his  name 
was  not  familiar  to  me.  He  was  quite  sure  that  you  would 
know  it." 

Wolfenden  took  the  card  between  his  fingers  and  read  it 
out. 

"  Mr.  Franklin  Wilmot." 

He  was  thoughtful  for  a  moment.  The  name  was 
familiar  enough,  but  he  could  not  immediately  remember 
in  what  connection.  Suddenly  it  flashed  into  his  mind. 

"  Of  course !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  He  is  a  famous  phy- 
sician— a  very  great  swell,  goes  to  Court  and  all  that !  " 

Lady  Deringham  nodded. 

"He  has  introduced  himself  as  a  physician.  He  has 
brought  this  letter  from  Dr.  Whitlett." 

Wolfenden  took  the  note  from  her  hand.     It  was  written 

118 


MR.  FRANKLIN  WILMOT  119 

on    half    a    sheet    of    paper,    and    apparently    in    great 
haste : — 

"  DEAR  LADY  DERINGHAM, — My  old  friend,  Franklin 
Wilmot,  who  has  been  staying  at  Cromer,  has  just  called 
upon  me.  We  have  been  having  a  chat,  and  he  is  ex- 
tremely interested  in  Lord  Deringham's  case,  so  much  so 
that  I  had  arranged  to  come  over  with  him  this  evening  to 
see  if  you  would  care  to  have  his  opinion.  Unfortunately, 
however,  I  have  been  summoned  to  attend  a  patient  nearly 
ten  miles  away — a  bad  accident,  I  fear — and  Wilmot  is 
leaving  for  town  to-morrow  morning.  I  suggested,  how- 
ever, that  he  might  call  on  his  way  back  to  Cromer,  and  if 
you  would  kindly  let  him  see  Lord  Deringham,  I  should  be 
glad,  as  his  opinion  would  be  of  material  assistance  to  me. 
Wilmot's  reputation  as  the  greatest  living  authority  on 
cases  of  partial  mania  is  doubtless  known  to  you,  and  as  he 
never,  under  any  circumstances,  visits  patients  outside 
London,  it  would  be  a  great  pity  to  lose  this  opportunity. 

"  In  great  haste  and  begging  you  to  excuse  this  scrawl, 
"  I  am,  dear  Lady  Deringham, 

"  Yours  sincerely, 

"JOHN  WHITLETT. 

"  P.S. — You  will  please  not  offer  him  any  fee." 

Wolfenden  folded  up  the  letter  and  returned  it. 

"  Well,  I  suppose  it's  all  right,"  he  said.  "  It's  an  odd 
time,  though,  to  call  on  an  errand  of  this  sort." 

"So  I  thought,"  Lady  Deringham  agreed;  "but  Dr. 
Whitlett's  explanation  seems  perfectly  feasible,  does  it  not  ? 
I  said  that  I  would  consult  you.  You  will  come  in  and 
see  him  ?  " 

Wolfenden  followed  his  mother  into  the  drawing-room. 
A  tall,  dark  man  was  sitting  in  a  corner,  under  a  palm  tree. 


120  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

In  one  hand  he  held  a  magazine,  the  pictures  of  which  he 
seemed  to  be  studying  with  the  aid  of  an  eyeglass,  the 
other  was  raised  to  his  mouth.  He  was  in  the  act  of 
indulging  in  a  yawn  when  Wolfenden  and  his  mother 
entered  the  room. 

"This  is  my  son,  Lord  Wolfenden,"  she  said.  "Dr. 
Franklin  Wilmot" 

The  two  men  bowed. 

"Lady  Deringham  has  explained  to  you  the  reason  of 
my  untimely  visit,  I  presume  ? "  the  latter  remarked  at 
once. 

Wolfenden  assented. 

"  Yes !  I  am  afraid  that  it  will  be  a  little  difficult  to  get 
my  father  to  see  you  on  such  short  notice." 

"  I  was  about  to  explain  to  Lady  Deringham,  before  I 
understood  that  you  were  in  the  house,"  Dr.  Wilmot  said, 
"  that  although  that  would  be  an  advantage,  it  is  not  abso- 
lutely necessary  at  present.  I  should  of  course  have  to 
examine  your  father  before  giving  a  definite  opinion  as  to 
his  case,  but  I  can  give  you  a  very  fair  idea  as  to  his  con- 
dition without  seeing  him  at  all." 

Wolfenden  and  his  mother  exchanged  glances. 

"You  must  forgive  us,"  Wolfenden  commenced  hesitat- 
ingly, "but  really  I  can  scarcely  understand." 

"Of  course  not,"  their  visitor  interrupted  brusquely. 
"  My  method  is  one  which  is  doubtless  altogether  strange 
to  you,  but  if  you  read  the  Lancet  or  the  Medical  Journal, 
you  would  have  heard  a  good  deal  about  it  lately.  I  form 
my  conclusions  as  to  the  mental  condition  of  a  patient 
almost  altogether  from  a  close  inspection  of  their  letters,  or 
any  work  upon  which  they  are,  or  have  been,  recently 
engaged.  I  do  not  say  that  it  is  possible  to  do  this  from 
a  single  letter,  but  when  a  man  has  a  hobby,  such  as  I  under- 
stand Lord  Deringham  indulges  in,  and  has  devoted  a  great 
deal  of  time  to  real  or  imaginary  work  in  connection  with  it, 


MR.  FRANKLIN  WILMOT  121 

I  am  generally  able,  from  a  study  of  that  work,  to  tell  how 
far  the  brain  is  weakened,  if  at  all,  and  in  what  manner  it 
can  be  strengthened.  This  is  only  the  crudest  outline  of  my 
theory,  but  to  be  brief,  I  can  give  you  my  opinion  as  to  Lord 
Deringham's  mental  condition,  and  my  advice  as  to  its 
maintenance,  if  you  will  place  before  me  the  latest  work 
upon  which  he  has  been  engaged.  I  hope  I  have  made 
myself  clear." 

"  Perfectly,"  Wolfenden  answered.  "  It  sounds  very 
reasonable  and  very  interesting,  but  I  am  afraid  that  there 
are  a  few  practical  difficulties  in  the  way.  In  the  first 
place,  my  father  does  not  show  his  work  or  any  portion  of 
it  to  any  one.  On  the  other  hand  he  takes  the  most  extra- 
ordinary precautions  to  maintain  absolute  secrecy  with 
regard  to  it." 

"  That,"  Dr.  Wilmot  remarked,  "  is  rather  a  bad  feature 
of  the  case.  It  is  a  difficulty  which  I  should  imagine  you 
could  get  over,  though.  You  could  easily  frame  some 
excuse  to  get  him  away  from  his  study  for  a  short  time  and 
leave  me  there.  Of  course  the  affair  is  in  your  hands 
altogether,  and  I  am  presuming  that  you  are  anxious  to 
have  an  opinion  as  to  your  father's  state  of  health.  I  am 
not  in  the  habit  of  seeking  patients,"  he  added,  a  little 
stiffly.  "  I  was  interested  in  my  friend  Whitlett's  descrip- 
tion of  the  case,  and  anxious  to  apply  my  theories  to  it,  as 
it  happens  to  differ  in  some  respects  from  anything  I  have 
met  with  lately.  Further,  I  may  add,"  he  continued, 
glancing  at  the  clock,  "  if  anything  is  to  be  done  it  must  be 
done  quickly.  I  have  no  time  to  spare." 

"  You  had  better,"  Wolfenden  suggested,  "  stay  here  for 
the  night  in  any  case.  We  will  send  you  to  the  station,  or 
into  Cromer,  as  early  as  you  like  in  the  morning." 

"Absolutely  impossible,"  Dr.  Wilmot  replied  briefly. 
"  I  am  staying  with  friends  in  Cromer,  and  I  have  a  con- 
sultation in  town  early  to-morrow  morning.  You  must 


122  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

really  make  up  your  minds  at  once  whether  you  wish  for  my 
opinion  or  not." 

"  I  do  not  think,"  Lady  Deringham  said,  "  that  we  need 
hesitate  for  a  moment  about  that ! " 

Wolfenden  looked  at  him  doubtfully.  There  seemed  to 
be  no  possibility  of  anything  but  advantage  in  accepting 
this  offer,  and  yet  in  a  sense  he  was  sorry  that  it  had  been 
made. 

"  In  case  you  should  attach  any  special  importance  to 
your  father's  manuscripts,"  Dr.  Wilmot  remarked,  with  a 
note  of  sarcasm  in  his  tone,  "  I  might  add  that  it  is  not  at 
all  necessary  for  me  to  be  alone  in  the  study." 

Wolfenden  felt  a  little  uncomfortable  under  the  older 
man's  keen  gaze.  Neither  did  he  altogether  like  having  his 
thoughts  read  so  accurately. 

"  I  suppose,"  he  said,  turning  to  his  mother,  "  you  could 
manage  to  get  him  away  from  the  library  for  a  short 
time?" 

"  I  could  at  least  try,"  she  answered.     "  Shall  I  ?  " 

"  I  think,"  he  said,  "  that  as  Dr.  Wilmot  has  been  good 
enough  to  go  out  of  his  way  to  call  here,  we  must  make  an 
effort." 

Lady  Deringham  left  the  room. 

Dr.  Wilmot,  whose  expression  of  absolute  impassiveness 
had  not  altered  in  the  least  during  their  discussion,  turned 
towards  Wolfenden. 

"  Have  you  yourself,"  he  said,  "  never  seen  any  of  your 
father's  manuscripts  ?  Has  he  never  explained  the  scheme 
of  his  work  to  you  ?  " 

Wolfenden  shook  his  head. 

"  I  know  the  central  idea,"  he  answered — "  the  weakness 
of  our  navy  and  coast  defences,  and  that  is  about  all  I 
know.  My  father,  even  when  he  was  an  admiral  on  active 
service,  took  an  absolutely  pessimistic  view  of  both.  You 
may  perhaps  remember  this.  The  Lords  of  the  Admiralty 


MR.  FRANKLIN  WILMOT  123 

used  to  consider  him,  I  believe,  the  one  great  thorn  in  their 
sides." 

Dr.  Wilmot  shook  his  head. 

"  I  have  never  taken  any  interest  in  such  matters,"  he 
said.  "My  profession  has  been  completely  absorbing 
•during  the  last  ten  years." 

Wolfenden  nodded. 

"  I  know,"  he  remarked,  "  that  I  used  to  read  the  news- 
papers and  wonder  why  on  earth  my  father  took  such  pains 
to  try  and  frighten  everybody.  But  he  is  altogether  changed 
now.  He  even  avoids  the  subject,  although  I  am  quite  sure 
that  it  is  his  one  engrossing  thought.  It  is  certain  that  no 
one  has  ever  given  such  time  and  concentrated  energy  to  it 
before.  If  only  his  work  was  the  work  of  a  sane  man  I 
could  understand  it  being  very  valuable." 

"  Not  the  least  doubt  about  it,  I  should  say,"  Dr.  Wilmot 
replied  carelessly. 

The  door  opened  and  Lady  Deringham  reappeared. 

"  I  have  succeeded,"  she  said.  "  He  is  upstairs  now.  I 
will  try  and  keep  him  there  for  half  an  hour.  Wolfenden, 
will  you  take  Dr.  Wilmot  into  the  study  ?  " 

Dr.  Wilmot  rose  with  quiet  alacrity.  Wolfenden  led  the 
way  down  the  long  passage  which  led  to  the  study.  He 
himself  was  scarcely  prepared  for  such  signs  of  unusual 
labours  as  confronted  them  both  when  they  opened  the 
door.  The  round  table  in  the  centre  of  the  room  was  piled 
with  books  and  a  loose  heap  of  papers.  A  special  rack 
was  hung  with  a  collection  of  maps  and  charts.  There  were 
nautical  instruments  upon  the  table,  and  compasses,  as  well 
as  writing  materials,  and  a  number  of  small  models  of  men- 
of-war.  Mr.  Blatherwick,  who  was  sitting  at  the  other  side 
of  the  room  busy  with  some  copying,  looked  up  in  amaze- 
ment at  the  entrance  of  Wolfenden  and  a  stranger  upon  what 
was  always  considered  forbidden  ground. 

Wolfenden  stepped  forward  at  once  to  the  table.  A  sheet 


124  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

of  paper  lay  there  on  which  the  ink  was  scarcely  yet  dry. 
Many  others  were  scattered  about,  almost  undecipherable, 
with  marginal  notes  and  corrections  in  his  father's  hand- 
writing. He  pushed  some  of  them  towards  his  companion. 

"  You  can  help  yourself,"  he  said.  "  This  seems  to  be 
his  most  recent  work." 

Dr.  Wilmot  seemed  scarcely  to  hear  him.  He  had 
turned  the  lamp  up  with  quick  fingers,  and  was  leaning  over 
those  freshly  written  pages.  Decidedly  he  was  interested  in 
the  case.  He  stood  quite  still  reading  with  breathless 
haste — the  papers  seemed  almost  to  fly  through  his  fingers. 
Wolfenden  was  a  little  puzzled.  Mr.  Blatherwick,  who  had 
been  watching  the  proceedings  with  blank  amazement,  rose 
and  came  over  towards  them. 

"  You  will  excuse  me,  Lord  Wolfenden,"  he  said,  "  but  if 
the  admiral  should  come  back  and  find  a  stranger  with  you 
looking  over  his  work,  he  will " 

"  It's  all  right,  Blatherwick,"  Wolfenden  interrupted,  the 
more  impatiently  since  he  was  far  from  comfortable  himself. 
"  This  gentleman  is  a  physician." 

The  secretary  resumed  his  seat.  Dr.  Wilmot  was  reading 
with  lightning-like  speed  sheet  after  sheet,  making  frequent 
notes  in  a  pocket-book  which  he  had  laid  on  the  table 
before  him.  He  was  so  absorbed  that  he  did  not  seem  to 
hear  the  sound  of  wheels  coming  up  the  avenue. 

Wolfenden  walked  to  the  window,  and  raising  the  curtain, 
looked  out.  He  gave  vent  to  a  little  exclamation  of  relief 
as  he  saw  a  familiar  dogcart  draw  up  at  the  hall  door,  and 
Dr.  Whitlett's  famous  mare  pulled  steaming  on  to  her 
haunches. 

"  It  is  Dr.  Whitlett,"  he  exclaimed.  "  He  has  followed 
you  up  pretty  soon." 

The  sheet  which  the  physician  was  reading  fluttered 
through  his  fingers.  There  was  a  very  curious  look  in  his 
face.  He  walked  up  to  the  window  and  looked  out. 


MR.  FRANKLIN  WILMOT  125 

"  So  it  is,"  he  remarked.  "  I  should  like  to  see  him  at 
once  for  half  a  minute — then  I  shall  have  finished.  I 
wonder  whether  you  would  mind  going  yourself  and  asking 
him  to  step  this  way  ?  " 

Wolfenden  turned  immediately  to  leave  the  room.  At 
the  door  he  turned  sharply  round,  attracted  by  a  sudden 
noise  and  an  exclamation  from  Blatherwick.  Dr.  Wilmot 
had  disappeared !  Mr.  Blatherwick  was  gazing  at  the 
window  in  amazement ! 

"  He's  gone,  sir !  Clean  out  of  the  window — jumped  it 
like  a  cat !  " 

Wolfenden  sprang  to  the  curtains.  The  night  wind  was 
blowing  into  the  room  through  the  open  casement. 
Fainter  and  fainter  down  the  long  avenue  came  the  sound 
of  galloping  horses.  Dr.  Franklin  Wilmot  had  certainly 
gone  ! 

Wolfenden  turned  from  the  window  to  find  himself  face 
to  face  with  Dr.  Whitlett. 

"  What  on  earth  is  the  matter  with  your  friend  Wilmot  ?  " 
he  exclaimed.  "  He  has  just  gone  off  through  the  window 
like  a  madman  ! " 

"  Wilmot !  "  the  doctor  exclaimed.  "  I  never  knew  any 
one  of  that  name  in  my  life.  The  fellow's  a  rank  im- 
postor ! " 


CHAPTER  XVI 

GENIUS   OR   MADNESS 

FOR  a  moment  Wolfenden  was  speechless.  Then,  with  a 
presence  of  mind  which  afterwards  he  marvelled  at,  he 
asked  no  more  questions,  but  stepped  up  to  the  writing- 
table. 

"  Blatherwick,"  he  said  hurriedly,  "we  seem  to  have  made 
a  bad  mistake.  Will  you  try  and  rearrange  these  papers 
exactly  as  the  admiral  left  them,  and  do  not  let  him  know 
that  any  one  has  entered  the  room  or  seen  them." 

Mr.  Blatherwick  commenced  his  task  with  trembling 
fingers. 

"I  will  do  my  best,"  he  said  nervously.  "But  I  am 
not  supposed  to  touch  anything  upon  this  table  at  all.  If 
the  admiral  finds  me  here,  he  will  be  very  angry." 

"  I  will  take  the  blame,"  Wolfenden  said.    "  Do  your  best." 

He  took  the  country  doctor  by  the  arm  and  hurried  him 
into  the  smoking-room. 

"This  is  a  most  extraordinary  affair,  Dr.  Whitlett,"  he 
said  gravely.  "I  presume  that  this  letter,  then,  is  a 
forgery  ?  " 

The  doctor  took  the  note  of  introduction  which  Wilmot 
had  brought,  and  adjusting  his  pince-nez,  read  it  hastily 
through. 

"A  forgery  from  the  beginning  to  end,"  he  declared, 
turning  it  over  and  looking  at  it  helplessly.  "  I  have  never 
known  any  one  of  the  name  in  my  life ! " 

136 


GENIUS  OR  MADNESS  127 

"  It  is  written  on  notepaper  stamped  with  your  address," 
Wolfenden  remarked.  "  It  is  also,  I  suppose,  a  fair  imita- 
tion of  your  handwriting,  for  Lady  Deringham  accepted  it 
as  such?" 

The  doctor  nodded. 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  he  said,  "  all  that  I  know  of  the  affair. 
I  started  out  to  pay  some  calls  this  evening  about  six 
o'clock.  As  I  turned  into  the  main  road  I  met  a  strange 
brougham  and  pair  of  horses  being  driven  very  slowly. 
There  was  a  man  who  looked  like  a  gentleman's  servant 
sitting  by  the  side  of  the  coachman,  and  as  I  passed  them 
the  latter  asked  a  question,  and  I  am  almost  certain  that  I 
heard  my  name  mentioned.  I  was  naturally  a  little  curious, 
and  I  kept  looking  back  all  along  the  road  to  see  which  way 
they  turned  after  passing  my  house.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
although  I  pulled  up  and  waited  in  the  middle  of  the  road, 
I  saw  no  more  of  the  carriage.  When  at  last  I  drove  on,  I 
knew  that  one  of  two  things  must  have  happened.  Either 
the  carriage  must  have  come  to  a  standstill  and  remained 
stationary  in  the  road,  or  it  must  have  turned  in  at  my 
gate.  The  hedge  was  down  a  little  higher  up  the  road,  and 
I  could  see  distinctly  that  they  had  not  commenced  to 
climb  the  hill.  It  seemed  very  odd  to  me,  but  I  had  an 
important  call  to  make,  so  I  drove  on  and  got  through  as 
quickly  as  I  could.  On  my  way  home  I  passed  your  north 
entrance,  and,  looking  up  the  avenue,  I  saw  the  same 
brougham  on  its  way  up  to  the  house.  I  had  half  a  mind 
to  run  in  then — I  wish  now  that  I  had — but  instead  of 
doing  so  I  drove  quickly  home.  There  I  found  that  a 
gentleman  had  called  a  few  minutes  after  I  had  left  home, 
and  finding  me  out  had  asked  permission  to  leave  a  note. 
The  girl  had  shown  him  into  the  study,  and  he  had  remained 
there  about  ten  minutes.  Afterwards  he  had  let  himself 
out  and  driven  away.  When  I  looked  for  the  note  for 
me  there  was  none,  but  the  writing  materials  had  been 


128  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

used,  and  a  sheet  of  notepaper  was  gone.  I  happened  to 
remember  that  there  was  only  one  out.  The  whole  thing 
seemed  to  me  so  singular  that  I  ordered  the  dogcart  out 
again  and  drove  straight  over  here." 

"  For  which,"  Wolfenden  remarked,  "  we  ought  to  feel 
remarkably  grateful.  So  far  the  thing  is  plain  enough ! 
But  what  on  earth  did  that  man,  whoever  he  was,  expect 
to  find  in  my  father's  study  that  he  should  make  an 
elaborate  attempt  like  this  to  enter  it  ?  He  was  no  common 
thief!" 

Dr.  Whitlett  shook  his  head.  He  had  no  elucidation  to 
offer.  The  thing  was  absolutely  mysterious. 

"  Your  father  himself,"  he  said  slowly,  "  sets  a  very  high 
value  upon  the  result  of  his  researches  ! " 

"  And  on  the  other  hand,"  Wolfenden  retorted  promptly, 
"  you,  and  my  mother,  Mr.  Blatherwick,  and  even  the  girl 
who  has  been  copying  for  him,  have  each  assured  me  that 
his  work  is  rubbish  !  You  four  comprise  all  who  have 
seen  any  part  of  it,  and  I  understand  that  you  have  come 
to  the  conclusion  that,  if  not  insane,  he  is  at  least  suffering 
from  some  sort  of  mania.  Now,  how  are  we  to  reconcile 
this  with  the  fact  of  an  attempted  robbery  this  evening,  and 
the  further  fact  that  a  heavy  bribe  has  been  secretly  offered 
to  Blatherwick  to  copy  only  a  few  pages  of  his  later 
manuscripts  ?  " 

Dr.  Whitlett  started. 

"Indeed!"  he  exclaimed.  "When  did  you  hear  of 
this?" 

"  Only  this  afternoon,"  Wolfenden  answered.  "  Blather- 
wick brought  me  the  letter  himself.  What  I  cannot 
understand  is,  how  these  documents  could  ever  become  a 
marketable  commodity.  Yet  we  may  look  upon  it  now  as 
an  absolute  fact,  that  there  are  persons — and  no  ordinary 
thieves  either ! — conspiring  to  obtain  possession  of  them." 

"Wolfenden!" 


GENIUS  OR  MADNESS  129 

The  two  men  started  round.  The  Countess  was  standing 
in  the  doorway.  She  was  pale  as  death,  and  her  eyes  were 
full  of  fear. 

"Who  was  that  man?"  she  cried.  "What  has  hap- 
pened ?  " 

"He  was  an  impostor,  I  am  afraid,"  Wolfenden  an- 
swered. "The  letter  from  Dr.  Whitlett  was  forged.  He 
has  bolted." 

She  looked  towards  the  doctor. 

"  Thank  God  that  you  are  here  ! "  she  cried.  "  I  am 
frightened !  There  are  some  papers  and  models  missing, 
and  the  admiral  has  found  it  out !  I  am  afraid  he  is  going 
to  have  a  fit.  Please  come  into  the  library.  He  must  not 
be  left  alone ! " 

They  both  followed  her  down  the  passage  and  through 
the  half-opened  door.  In  the  centre  of  the  room  Lord 
Deringham  was  standing,  his  pale  cheeks  scarlet  with 
passion,  his  fists  convulsively  clenched.  He  turned  sharply 
round  to  face  them,  and  his  eyes  flashed  with  anger. 

"  Nothing  shall  make  me  believe  that  this  room  has  not 
been  entered,  and  my  papers  tampered  with ! "  he  stormed 
out.  "Where  is  that  reptile  Blatherwick?  I  left  my 
morning's  work  and  two  models  on  the  desk  there,  less 
than  half  an  hour  ago ;  both  the  models  are  gone  and  one 
of  the  sheets  !  Either  Blatherwick  has  stolen  them,  or  the 
room  has  been  entered  during  my  absence !  Where  is  that 
hound?" 

"  He  is  in  his  room,"  Lady  Deringham  answered.  "  He 
ran  past  me  on  the  stairs  trembling  all  over,  and  he  has 
locked  himself  in  and  piled  up  the  furniture  against  the 
door.  You  have  frightened  him  to  death  ! " 

"  It  is  scarcely  possible "  Dr.  Whitlett  began. 

"  Don't  lie,  sir ! "  the  admiral  thundered  out.  "  You  are 
a  pack  of  fools  and  old  women  !  You  are  as  ignorant  as 
rabbits !  You  know  no  more  than  the  kitchenmaids  what 

9 


130  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

has  been  growing  and  growing  within  these  walls.  I  tell 
you  that  my  work  of  the  last  few  years,  placed  in  certain 
hands,  would  alter  the  whole  face  of  Europe — aye,  of 
Christendom !  There  are  men  in  this  country  to-day  whose 
object  is  to  rob  me,  and  you,  my  own  household,  seem 
to  be  crying  them  welcome,  bidding  them  come  and  help 
themselves,  as  though  the  labour  of  my  life  was  worth  no 
more  than  so  many  sheets  of  waste  paper.  You  have  let 
a  stranger  into  this  room  to-day,  and  if  he  had  not  been 
disturbed,  God  knows  what  he  might  not  have  carried  away 
with  him  ! " 

"We  have  been  very  foolish,"  Lady  Deringham  said 
pleadingly.  "  We  will  set  a  watch  now  day  and  night. 
We  will  run  no  more  risks !  I  swear  it !  You  can  believe 
me,  Horace  ! " 

"  Aye,  but  tell  me  the  truth  now,"  he  cried.  "  Some  one 
has  been  in  this  room  and  escaped  through  the  window.  I 
learnt  as  much  as  that  from  that  blithering  idiot,  Blather- 
wick.  I  want  to  know  who  he  was  ?  " 

She  glanced  towards  the  doctor.  He  nodded  his  head 
slightly.  Then  she  went  up  to  her  husband  and  laid  her 
hand  upon  his  shoulders. 

"  Horace,  you  are  right,"  she  said.  "  It  is  no  use  trying 
to  keep  it  from  you.  A  man  did  impose  upon  us  with  a 
forged  letter.  He  could  not  have  been  here  more  than 
five  minutes,  though.  We  found  him  out  almost  at  once. 
It  shall  never  happen  again  ! " 

The  wisdom  of  telling  him  was  at  once  apparent.  His 
face  positively  shone  with  triumph !  He  became  quite 
calm,  and  the  fierce  glare,  which  had  alarmed  them  all  so 
much,  died  out  of  his  eyes.  The  confession  was  a  triumph 
for  him.  He  was  gratified. 

"I  knew  it,"  he  declared,  with  positive  good  humour. 
"  I  have  warned  you  of  this  all  the  time.  Now  perhaps 
you  will  believe  me  !  Thank  God  that  it  was  not  Duchesne 


GENIUS  OR  MADNESS  131 

himself.  I  should  not  be  surprised,  though,  if  it  were 
not  one  of  his  emissaries !  If  Duchesne  comes,"  he 
muttered  to  himself,  his  face  growing  a  shade  paler,  "  God 
help  us ! " 

"  We  will  be  more  careful  now,"  Lady  Deringham  said. 
"  No  one  shall  ever  take  us  by  surprise  again.  We  will 
have  special  watchmen,  and  bars  on  all  the  windows." 

"From  this  moment,"  the  admiral  said  slowly,  "I  shall 
never  leave  this  room  until  my  work  is  ended,  and  handed 

over  to  Lord  S 's  care.     If  I  am  robbed  England  is  in 

danger  !  There  must  be  no  risks.  I  will  have  a  sofa- 
bedstead  down,  and  please  understand  that  all  my  meals 
must  be  served  here  !  Heggs  and  Morton  must  take  it  in 
turns  to  sleep  in  the  room,  and  there  must  be  a  watchman 
outside.  Now  will  you  please  all  go  away  ?  "  he  added,  with 
a  little  wave  of  his  hand.  "  I  have  to  reconstruct  what  has 
been  stolen  from  me  through  your  indiscretion.  Send  me 
in  some  coffee  at  eleven  o'clock,  and  a  box  of  cartridges 
you  will  find  in  my  dressing-room." 

They  went  away  together.  Wolfenden  was  grave  and 
mystified.  Nothing  about  his  father's  demeanour  or 
language  had  suggested  insanity.  What  if  they  were  all 
wrong — if  the  work  to  which  the  best  years  of  his  life  had 
gone  was  really  of  the  immense  importance  he  claimed  for 
it?  Other  people  thought  so!  The  slight  childishness, 
which  was  obvious  in  a  great  many  of  his  actions,  was  a 
very  different  thing  from  insanity.  Blatherwick  might  be 
deceived — Blanche  was  just  as  likely  to  have  looked  upon 
any  technical  work  as  rubbish.  Whitlett  was  only  a 
country  practitioner — even  his  mother  might  have  exag- 
gerated his  undoubted  eccentricities.  At  any  rate,  one 
thing  was  certain.  There  were  people  outside  who  made 
a  bold  enough  bid  to  secure  the  fruit  of  his  father's  labours. 
It  was  his  duty  to  see  that  the  attempt,  if  repeated,  was  still 
unsuccessful. 


CHAPTER    XVII 

THE  SCHEMING   OF  GIANTS 

AT  very  nearly  the  same  moment  as  the  man  who  had 
called  himself  Dr.  Wilmot  had  leaped  from  the  library 
window  of  Deringham  Hall,  Mr.  Sabin  sat  alone  in  his 
sanctum  waiting  for  a  visitor.  The  room  was  quite  a  small 
one  on  the  ground  floor  of  the  house,  but  was  furnished 
with  taste  and  evident  originality  in  the  Moorish  fashion. 
Mr.  Sabin  himself  was  ensconced  in  an  easy  chair  drawn 
close  up  to  the  fire,  and  a  thin  cloud  of  blue  smoke  was 
stealing  up  from  a  thick,  Egyptian  cigarette  which  was 
burning  away  between  his  fingers.  His  head  was  resting 
upon  the  delicate  fingers  of  his  left  hand,  his  dark  eyes  were 
fixed  upon  the  flaming  coals.  He  was  deep  in  thought. 

"A  single  mistake  now,"  he  murmured  softly,  "and 
farewell  to  the  labour  of  years.  A  single  false  step,  and 
goodbye  to  all  our  dreams  !  To-night  will  decide  it !  In 
a  few  minutes  I  must  say  Yes  or  No  to  Knigenstein.  I 
think — I  am  almost  sure  I  shall  say  Yes  !  Bah  !  " 

The  frown  on  his  forehead  grew  more  marked.  The 
cigarette  burned  on  between  his  fingers,  and  a  long  grey  ash 
fell  to  the  floor.  He  was  permitting  himself  the  luxury  of 
deep  thought.  All  his  life  he  had  been  a  schemer;  a 
builder  of  mighty  plans,  a  great  power  in  the  destinies  of 
great  people.  To-night  he  knew  that  he  had  reached  the 
crisis  of  a  career,  in  many  respects  marvellous.  To-night 

he  would  take  the  first  of  those  few  final  steps  on  to  the 

132 


desire  of  his  life.  It  only  rested  with  him  to  cast  the  die. 
He  must  make  the  decision  and  abide  by  it.  His  own  life's 
ambition  and  the  destinies  of  a  mighty  nation  hung  in  the 
balance.  Had  he  made  up  his  mind  which  way  to  turn  the 
scale  ?  Scarcely  even  yet !  There  were  so  many  things  ! 

He  sat  up  with  a  start.  There  was  a  knock  at  the  door. 
He  caught  up  the  evening  paper,  and  the  cigarette  smoke 
circled  about  his  head.  He  stirred  a  cup  of  coffee  by  his 
side.  The  hard  lines  in  his  face  had  all  relaxed.  There 
was  no  longer  any  anxiety.  He  looked  up  and  greeted 
pleasantly — with  a  certain  deference,  too — the  visitor  who 
was  being  ushered  in.  He  had  no  appearance  of  having 
been  engaged  in  anything  more  than  a  casual  study  of  the 
St.  James's  Gazette. 

"A  gentleman,  sir,"  the  stolid-looking  servant  had 
announced  briefly.  No  name  had  been  mentioned.  Mr. 
Sabin,  when  he  rose  and  held  out  his  hand,  did  not  address 
his  visitor  directly.  He  was  a  tall,  stout  man,  with  an  iron- 
grey  moustache  and  the  remains  of  a  military  bearing. 
When  the  servant  had  withdrawn  and  the  two  men  were 
alone,  he  unbuttoned  his  overcoat.  Underneath  he  wore 
a  foreign  uniform,  ablaze  with  orders.  Mr.  Sabin  glanced 
at  them  and  smiled. 

"You  are  going  to  Arlington  Street,"  he  remarked. 

The  other  man  nodded. 

"  When  I  leave  here,"  he  said. 

Then  there  was  a  short  silence.  Each  man  seemed  to 
be  waiting  for  the  other  to  open  the  negotiations.  Eventu- 
ally it  was  Mr.  Sabin  who  did  so. 

"I  have  been  carefully  through  the  file  of  papers  you 
sent  me,"  he  remarked. 

"  Yes ! " 

"  There  is  no  doubt  but  that,  to  a  certain  extent,  the  anti- 
English  feeling  of  which  you  spoke  exists !  I  have  made 
other  inquiries,  and  so  far  I  am  convinced ! " 


134  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"  So  !  The  seed  is  sown  !  It  has  been  sprinkled  with 
a  generous  hand  !  Believe  me,  my  friend,  that  for  this 
country  there  are  in  store  very  great  surprises.  I  speak  as 
one  who  knows  !  I  do  know  !  So  ! " 

Mr.  Sabin  was  thoughtful.  He  looked  into  the  fire  and 
spoke  musingly. 

"  Yet  the  ties  of  kindred  and  common  origin  are  strong," 
he  said.  "  It  is  hard  to  imagine  an  open  rupture  between 
the  two  great  Saxon  nations  of  the  world  ! " 

"  The  ties  of  kindred,"  said  Mr.  Sabin's  visitor,  "  are  not 
worth  the  snap  of  a  finger  !  So  ! " 

He  snapped  his  fingers  with  a  report  as  sharp  as  a  pistol- 
shot.  Mr.  Sabin  started  in  his  chair. 

"  It  is  the  ties  of  kindred,"  he  continued,  "  which  breed 
irritability,  not  kindliness !  I  tell  you,  my  friend,  that  there 
is  a  great  storm  gathering.  It  is  not  for  nothing  that  the 
great  hosts  of  my  country  are  ruled  by  a  war  lord  !  I  tell 
you  that  we  are  arming  to  the  teeth,  silently,  swiftly,  and 
with  a  purpose.  It  may  seem  to  you  a  small  thing,  but  let 
me  tell  you  this — we  are  a  jealous  nation !  And  we  have 
cause  for  jealousy.  In  whatever  part  of  the  world  we  put 
down  our  foot,  it  is  trodden  on  by  our  ubiquitous  cousins ! 
Wherever  we  turn  to  colonise,  we  are  too  late ;  England  has 
already  secured  the  finest  territory,  the  most  fruitful  of  the 
land.  We  must  either  take  her  leavings  or  go  a-begging ! 
Wherever  we  would  develope,  we  are  held  back  by  the  com- 
mercial and  colonising  genius — it  amounts  to  that — of  this 
wonderful  nation.  The  world  of  to-day  is  getting  cramped. 
There  is  no  room  for  a  growing  England  and  a  growing 
Germany !  So !  one  must  give  way,  and  Germany  is 
beginning  to  mutter  that  it  shall  not  always  be  her  sons 
who  go  to  the  wall.  You  say  that  France  is  our  natural 
enemy.  I  deny  it !  France  is  our  historical  enemy — 
nothing  else !  In  military  circles  to-day  a  war  with  Eng- 
land would  be  wildly,  hysterically  popular ;  and  sooner  or 


THE  SCHEMING  OF  GIANTS  135 

later  a  war  with  England  is  as  certain  to  come  as  the  rising 
of  the  sun  and  the  waning  of  the  moon !  I  can  tell  you 
even  now  where  the  first  blow  will  be  struck  !  It  is  fixed  ! 
It  is  to  come  !  So  ! " 

"  Not  in  Europe,"  Mr.  Sabin  said. 

"  Not  in  Europe  or  in  Asia  !  The  war-torch  will  be 
kindled  in  Africa  ! " 

"  The  Transvaal !  " 

Mr.  Sabin's  visitor  smiled. 

"  It  is  in  Africa,"  he  said,  "  that  English  monopoly  has 
been  most  galling  to  my  nation.  We  too  feel  the  burden 
of  over-population ;  we  too  have  our  young  blood  making 
itself  felt  throughout  the  land,  eager,  impetuous,  thirsting 
for  adventure  and  freedom.  We  need  new  countries  where 
these  may  develop,  and  at  once  ease  and  strengthen  our 
fatherland.  I  have  seen  it  written  in  one  of  the  great 
English  reviews  that  my  country  has  not  the  instinct  for 
colonisation.  It  is  false !  We  have  the  instinct  and  the 
desire,  but  not  the  opportunity.  England  is  like  a  great 
octopus.  She  is  ever  on  the  alert,  thrusting  out  her  suckers, 
and  drawing  in  for  herself  every  new  land  where  riches  lay. 
No  country  has  ever  been  so  suitable  for  us  as  Africa,  and 
behold — it  is  as  I  have  said.  Already  England  has  grabbed 
the  finest  and  most  to  be  desired  of  the  land — she  has  it 
now  in  her  mind  to  take  one  step  further  and  acquire  the 
whole.  But  my  country  has  no  mind  to  suffer  it !  We 
have  played  second  fiddle  to  a  weaker  Power  long  enough. 
We  want  Africa,  my  friend,  and  to  my  mind  and  the  mind 
of  my  master,  Africa  is  worth  having  at  all  costs — listen — 
even  at  the  cost  of  war  ! " 

Mr.  Sabin  was  silent  for  a  moment.  There  was  a  faint 
smile  upon  his  lips.  It  was  a  situation  such  as  he  loved. 
He  began  to  feel  indeed  that  he  was  making  history. 

"  You  have  convinced  me,"  he  said  at  last.  "  You  have 
taught  me  how  to  look  upon  European  politics  with  new 


136  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

eyes.  But  there  remains  one  important  question.  Sup- 
posing I  break  off  my  negotiations  in  other  quarters,  are 
you  willing  to  pay  my  price  ?  " 

The  Ambassador  waved  his  hand  !     It  was  a  trifle  ! 

"  If  what  you  give  fulfils  your  own  statements,"  he  said, 
"you  cannot  ask  a  price  which  my  master  would  not 
pay!" 

Mr.  Sabin  moved  a  little  in  his  chair.  His  eyes  were 
bright.  A  faint  tinge  of  colour  was  in  his  olive  cheeks. 

"  Four  years  of  my  life,"  he  said,  "  have  been  given  to 
the  perfecting  of  one  branch  only  of  my  design  ;  the  other, 
which  is  barely  completed,  is  the  work  of  the  only  man  in 
England  competent  to  handle  such  a  task.  The  combined 
result  will  be  infallible.  When  I  place  in  your  hands  a 
simple  roll  of  papers  and  a  small  parcel,  the  future  of  this 
country  is  absolutely  and  entirely  at  your  mercy.  That  is 
beyond  question  or  doubt.  To  whomsoever  I  give  my  secret, 
I  give  over  the  destinies  of  England.  But  the  price  is 
a  mighty  one !  " 

"  Name  it,"  the  Ambassador  said  quietly.  "  A  million, 
two  millions  ?  Rank  ?  What  is  it  ?  " 

"For  myself,"  Mr.  Sabin  said,  " nothing ! " 

The  other  man  started.     "  Nothing  ! " 

"  Absolutely  nothing  ! " 

The  Ambassador  raised  his  hand  to  his  forehead. 

"  You  confuse  me,"  he  said. 

"  My  conditions,"  Mr.  Sabin  said,  "  are  these.  The  con- 
quest of  France  and  the  restoration  of  the  monarchy,  in  the 
persons  of  Prince  Henri  and  his  cousin,  Princess  Helene 
of  Bourbon  ! " 

11  Ach ! " 

The  little  interjection  shot  from  the  Ambassador's  lips 
with  sharp,  staccato  emphasis  !  Then  there  was  a  silence — 
a  brief,  dramatic  silence  !  The  two  men  sat  motionless, 
the  eyes  of  each  fastened  upon  the  other.  The  Ambassador 


THE  SCHEMING  OF  GIANTS  137 

was  breathing  quickly,  and  his  eyes  sparkled  with  excite- 
ment. Mr.  Sabin  was  pale  and  calm,  yet  there  were  traces 
of  nervous  exhilaration  in  his  quivering  lips  and  bright 
eyes. 

"Yes,  you  were  right;  you  were  right  indeed,"  the 
Ambassador  said  slowly.  "It  is  a  great  price  that  you 
ask ! " 

Mr.  Sabin  laughed  very  softly. 

"  Think,"  he  said.  "  Weigh  the  matter  well !  Mark  first 
this  fact.  If  what  I  give  you  has  not  the  power  I  claim  for 
it,  our  contract  is  at  an  end.  I  ask  for  nothing  !  I  accept 
nothing.  Therefore,  you  may  assume  that  before  you  pay 
my  price  your  own  triumph  is  assured.  Think !  Reflect 
carefully !  What  will  you  owe  to  me  !  The  humiliation  of 
England,  the  acquisition  of  her  colonies,  the  destruction 
of  her  commerce,  and  such  a  war  indemnity  as  only  the 
richest  power  on  earth  could  pay.  These  things  you  gain. 
Then  you  are  the  one  supreme  Power  in  Europe.  France 
is  at  your  mercy  !  I  will  tell  you  why.  The  Royalist  party 
have  been  gaining  strength  year  by  year,  month  by  month, 
minute  by  minute  !  Proclaim  your  intentions  boldly.  The 
country  will  crumble  up  before  you  !  It  would  be  but  a  half- 
hearted resistance.  France  has  not  the  temperament  of 
a  people  who  will  remain  for  ever  faithful  to  a  democratic 
form  of  government.  At  heart  she  is  aristocratic.  The  old 
nobility  have  a  life  in  them  which  you  cannot  dream  of. 
I  know,  for  I  have  tested  it.  It  has  been  weary  waiting, 
but  the  time  is  ripe !  France  is  ready  for  the  cry  of  '  Vive 
le  Roi  I  Vive  la  Monarchic  I '  I  who  tell  you  these  things 
have  proved  them.  I  have  felt  the  pulse  of  my  country, 
and  I  love  her  too  well  to  mistake  the  symptoms  !  " 

The  Ambassador  was  listening  with  greedy  ears — he  was 
breathing  hard  through  his  teeth  !  It  was  easy  to  see  that 
the  glamour  of  the  thing  had  laid  hold  of  him.  He  foresaw 
for  himself  an  immortal  name,  for  his  country  a  greatness 


138  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

beyond  the  wildest  dreams  of  her  most  sanguine  ministers. 
Bismarck  himself  had  planned  nothing  like  this  !  Yet  he 
did  not  altogether  lose  his  common  sense. 

"  But  Russia,"  he  objected,  "  she  would  never  sanction 
a  German  invasion  of  France." 

Mr.  Sabin  smiled  scornfully. 

"  You  are  a  great  politician,  my  dear  Baron,  and  you  say 
a  thing  like  that !  You  amaze  me !  But  of  course  the 
whole  affair  is  new  to  you  ;  you  have  not  thought  it  out  as 
I  have  done.  Whatever  happens  in  Europe,  Russia  will 
maintain  the  isolation  for  which  geography  and  tempera- 
ment have  marked  her  out.  She  would  not  stir  one  ringer 
to  help  France.  Why  should  she  ?  What  could  France  give 
her  in  return  ?  What  would  she  gain  by  plunging  into  an 
exhausting  war?  To  the  core  of  his  heart  and  the  tips 
of  his  finger-nails  the  Muscovite  is  selfish  !  Then,  again, 
consider  this.  You  are  not  going  to  ruin  France  as  you 
did  before  ;  you  are  going  to  establish  a  new  dynasty,  and 
not  waste  the  land  or  exact  a  mighty  tribute.  Granted  that 
sentiments  of  friendship  exist  between  Russia  and  France, 
do  you  not  think  that  Russia  would  not  sooner  see  France 
a  monarchy  ?  Do  you  think  that  she  would  stretch  out  her 
little  finger  to  aid  a  tottering  republic  and  keep  back  a 
king  from  the  throne  of  France  ?  Mon  Dieu  I  Never  ! " 

Mr.  Sabin's  face  was  suddenly  illuminated.  A  fire  flashed 
in  his  dark  eyes,  and  a  note  of  fervent  passion  quivered  life- 
like in  his  vibrating  voice.  His  manner  had  all  the  abandon 
of  one  pleading  a  great  cause,  nursed  by  a  great  heart.  He 
was  a  patriot  or  a  poet,  surely  not  only  a  politician  or  a  mere 
intriguing  adventurer.  For  a  moment  he  suffered  his  en- 
thusiasm to  escape  him.  Then  the  mask  was  as  suddenly 
dropped.  He  was  himself  again,  calm,  convincing,  impene- 
trable. 

As  the  echoes  of  his  last  interjection  died  away  there 
was  a  silence  between  the  two  men.  It  was  the  Ambassador 


THE  SCHEMING  OF  GIANTS  139 

at  last  who  broke  it.  He  was  looking  curiously  at  his  com- 
panion. 

"  I  must  confess,"  he  said  slowly,  "  that  you  have 
fascinated  me !  You  have  done  more,  you  have  made 
me  see  dreams  and  possibilities  which,  set  down  upon 
paper,  I  should  have  mocked  at.  Mr.  Sabin,  I  can  no 
longer  think  of  you  as  a  person — you  are  a  personage  !  We 
are  here  alone,  and  I  am  as  secret  as  the  grave ;  be  so  kind 
as  to  lift  the  veil  of  your  incognito.  I  can  no  longer  think 
of  you  as  Mr.  Sabin.  Who  are  you  ?  " 

Mr.  Sabin  smiled  a  curious  smile,  and  lit  a  cigarette  from 
the  open  box  before  him. 

"  That,"  he  said,  pushing  the  box  across  the  table,  "  you 
may  know  in  good  time  if,  in  commercial  parlance,  we  deal. 
Until  that  point  is  decided,  I  am  Mr.  Sabin.  I  do  not  even 
admit  that  it  is  an  incognito." 

"And  yet,"  the  Ambassador  said,  with  a  curious  lighten- 
ing of  his  face,  as  though  recollection  had  suddenly  been 
vouchsafed  to  him,  "  I  fancy  that  if  I  were  to  call  you " 

Mr.  Sabin's  protesting  hand  was  stretched  across  the  table. 

"  Excuse  me,"  he  interrupted,  "  let  it  remain  between  us 
as  it  is  now !  My  incognito  is  a  necessity  for  the  present. 
Let  it  continue  to  be — Mr.  Sabin  !  Now  answer  me.  All 
has  been  said  that  can  be  said  between  us.  What  is  your 
opinion  ?  " 

The  Ambassador  rose  from  his  seat  and  stood  upon  the 
hearthrug  with  his  back  to  the  fire.  There  was  a  streak 
of  colour  upon  his  sallow  cheeks,  and  his  eyes  shone 
brightly  underneath  his  heavy  brows.  He  had  removed 
his  spectacles  and  was  swinging  them  lightly  between  his 
thumb  and  forefinger. 

"I  will  be  frank  with  you,"  he  said.  "My  opinion  is 
a  favourable  one.  I  shall  apply  for  leave  of  absence  to- 
morrow. In  a  week  all  that  you  have  said  shall  be  laid 
before  my  master.  Such  as  my  personal  influence  is,  it  will 


140  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

be  exerted  on  behalf  of  the  acceptance  of  your  scheme. 
The  greatest  difficulty  will  be,  of  course,  in  persuading  the 
Emperor  of  its  practicability — in  plain  words,  that  what 
you  say  you  have  to  offer  will  have  the  importance  which 
you  attribute  to  it." 

"  If  you  fail  in  that,"  Mr.  Sabin  said,  also  rising,  "  send 
for  me !  But  bear  this  in  mind,  if  my  scheme  should  after 
all  be  ineffective,  if  it  should  fail  in  the  slightest  detail  to 
accomplish  all  that  I  claim  for  it,  what  can  you  lose  ?  The 
payment  is  conditional  upon  its  success  ;  the  bargain  is  all 
in  your  favour.  I  should  not  offer  such  terms  unless  I  held 
certain  cards.  Remember,  if  there  are  difficulties  send  for 
me!" 

"  I  will  do  so,"  the  Ambassador  said  as  he  buttoned  his 
overcoat.  "  Now  give  me  a  limit  of  time  for  our  decision." 

"  Fourteen  days,"  Mr.  Sabin  said.  "  How  I  shall  tem- 
porise with  Lobenski  so  long  I  cannot  tell.  But  I  will  give 
you  fourteen  days  from  to-day.  It  is  ample  !  " 

The  two  men  exchanged  farewells  and  parted.  Mr. 
Sabin,  with  a  cigarette  between  his  teeth,  and  humming 
now  and  then  a  few  bars  from  one  of  Verdi's  operas,  com- 
menced to  carefully  select  a  bagful  of  golf  clubs  from  a  little 
pile  which  stood  in  one  corner  of  the  room.  Already  they 
bore  signs  of  considerable  use,  and  he  handled  them  with 
the  care  of  an  expert,  swinging  each  one  gently,  and  hesi- 
tating for  some  time  between  a  wooden  or  a  metal  putter, 
and  longer  still  between  the  rival  claims  of  a  bulger  and 
a  flat-headed  brassey.  At  last  the  bag  was  full ;  he  resumed 
his  seat  and  counted  them  out  carefully. 

"  Ten,"  he  said  to  himself  softly.  "  Too  many  ;  it  looks 
amateurish." 

Some  of  the  steel  heads  were  a  little  dull ;  he  took 
a  piece  of  chamois  leather  from  the  pocket  of  the  bag  and 
began  polishing  them.  As  they  grew  brighter  he  whistled 
softly  to  himself.  This  time  the  opera  tune  seemed  to  have 
escaped  him ;  he  was  whistling  the  "  Marseillaise  ! " 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

"  HE   HAS    GONE   TO   THE   EMPEROR  ! " 

THE  Ambassador,  when  he  left  Mr.  Sabin's  house,  stepped 
into  a  hired  hansom  and  drove  off  towards  Arlington  Street. 
A  young  man  who  had  watched  him  come  out,  from  the 
other  side  of  the  way,  walked  swiftly  to  the  corner  of  the 
street  and  stepped  into  a  private  brougham  which  was 
waiting  there. 

"  To  the  Embassy,"  he  said.     "  Drive  fast ! " 

The  carriage  set  him  down  in  a  few  minutes  at  the  house 
to  which  Densham  and  Harcutt  had  followed  Mr.  Sabin  on 
the  night  of  their  first  meeting  with  him.  He  walked 
swiftly  into  the  hall. 

"  Is  his  Excellency  within  ? "  he  asked  a  tall  servant 
in  plain  dress  who  came  forward  to  meet  him. 

"Yes,  Monsieur  Felix,"  the  man  answered;  "he  is  dining 
very  late  to-night — in  fact,  he  has  not  yet  risen  from  the  table." 

"  Who  is  with  him  ?  "  Felix  asked. 

"  It  is  a  very  small  party.  Madame  la  Princesse  has  just 
arrived  from  Paris,  and  his  Excellency  has  been  waiting  for 
her." 

He  mentioned  a  few  more  names ;  there  was  no  one 
of  importance.  Felix  walked  into  the  hall-porter's  office 
and  scribbled  a  few  words  on  half  a  sheet  of  paper,  which 
he  placed  in  an  envelope  and  carefully  sealed. 

"  Let  his  Excellency  have  this  privately  and  at  once,"  he 
said  to  the  man  ;  "  I  will  go  into  the  waiting  room." 


142  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SADIM 

The  man  withdrew  with  the  note,  and  Felix  crossed  the 
hall  and  entered  a  small  room  nearly  opposite.  It  was 
luxuriously  furnished  with  easy  chairs  and  divans;  there 
were  cigars,  and  cigarettes,  and  decanters  upon  a  round 
table.  Felix  took  note  of  none  of  these  things,  nor  did  he 
sit  down.  He  stood  with  his  hands  behind  him,  looking 
steadily  into  the  fire.  His  cheeks  were  almost  livid,  save 
for  a  single  spot  of  burning  colour  high  up  on  his  cheek- 
bone. His  fingers  twitched  nervously,  his  eyes  were  dry 
and  restlessly  bright.  He  was  evidently  in  a  state  of  great 
excitement.  In  less  than  two  minutes  the  door  opened,  and 
a  tall,  distinguished-looking  man,  grey  headed,  but  with 
a  moustache  still  almost  black,  came  softly  into  the  room. 
His  breast  glittered  with  orders,  and  he  was  in  full  Court 
dress.  He  nodded  kindly  to  the  young  man,  who  greeted 
him  with  respect. 

"  Is  it  anything  important,  Felix  ?  "  he  asked ;  "  you  are 
looking  tired." 

"Yes,  your  Excellency,  it  is  important,"  Felix  answered; 
"it  concerns  the  man  Sabin." 

The  Ambassador  nodded. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "what  of  him?  You  have  not  been 
seeking  to  settle  accounts  with  him,  I  trust,  after  our 
conversation,  and  your  promise?" 

Felix  shook  his  head. 

"  No,"  he  said.  "  I  gave  my  word  and  I  shall  keep  it ! 
Perhaps  you  may  some  day  regret  that  you  interfered 
between  us." 

"  I  think  not,"  the  Prince  replied.  "  Your  services  are 
valuable  to  me,  my  dear  Felix;  and  in  this  country,  more 
than  any  other,  deeds  of  violence  are  treated  with  scant 
ceremony,  and  affairs  of  honour  are  not  understood.  No, 
I  saved  you  from  yourself  for  myself.  It  was  an  excellent 
thing  for  both  of  us." 

"  I  trust,"  Felix  repeated,  "  that  your  Excellency  may 


"HE  HAS  GONE  TO  THE  EMPEROR/"  143 

always  think  so.  But  to  be  brief.  The  report  from 
Cartienne  is  to  hand." 

The  Ambassador  nodded  and  listened  expectantly. 

"  He  confirms  fully,"  Felix  continued,  "  the  value  of  the 
documents  which  are  in  question.  How  he  obtained  access 
to  them  he  does  not  say,  but  his  report  is  absolute.  He 
considers  that  they  justify  fully  the  man  Sabin's  version 
of  them." 

The  Prince  smiled. 

"  My  own  judgment  is  verified,"  he  said.  "  I  believed  in 
the  man  from  the  first.  It  is  good.  By  the  bye,  have  you 
seen  anything  of  Mr.  Sabin  to-day  ?  " 

"  I  have  come  straight,"  Felix  said,  "  from  watching  his 
house." 

"Yes?" 

"The  Baron  von  Knigenstein  has  been  there  alone, 
incognito,  for  more  than  an  hour.  I  watched  him  go  in — 
and  watched  him  out." 

The  Prince's  genial  smile  vanished.  His  face  grew 
suddenly  as  dark  as  thunder.  The  Muscovite  crept  out 
unawares.  There  was  a  fierce  light  in  his  eyes,  and  his 
face  was  like  the  face  of  a  wolf;  yet  his  voice  when  he 
spoke  was  low. 

"  So  ho  ! "  he  said  softly.  "  Mr.  Sabin  is  doing  a  little 
flirting,  is  he  ?  Ah  !  " 

"  I  believe,"  the  young  man  answered  slowly,  "  that 
he  has  advanced  still  further  than  that.  The  Baron  was 
there  for  an  hour.  He  came  out  walking  like  a  young  man. 
He  was  in  a  state  of  great  excitement." 

The  Prince  sat  down  and  stroked  the  side  of  his  face 
thoughtfully. 

"  The  great  elephant ! "  he  muttered.  "  Fancy  such  a 
creature  calling  himself  a  diplomatist!  It  is  well,  Felix," 
he  added,  "  that  I  had  finished  my  dinner,  otherwise 
you  would  certainly  have  spoilt  it.  If  they  have  met  like 


144  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

this,  there  is  no  end  to  the  possibilities  of  it.  I  must 
see  Sabin  immediately.  It  ought  to  be  easy  to  make 
him  understand  that  I  am  not  to  be  trifled  with.  Find  out 
where  he  is  to-night,  Felix ;  I  must  follow  him." 

Felix  took  up  his  hat. 

"  I  will  be  back,"  he  said,  "  in  half  an  hour." 

The  Prince  returned  to  his  guests,  and  Felix  drove 
off.  When  he  returned  his  chief  was  waiting  for  him 
alone. 

"  Mr.  Sabin,"  Felix  announced,  "  left  town  half  an  hour 
ago." 

"  For  abroad !  "  the  Prince  exclaimed,  with  flashing  eyes. 
"  He  has  gone  to  Germany  !  " 

Felix  shook  his  head. 

"  On  the  contrary,"  he  said ;  "  he  has  gone  down  into 
Norfolk  to  play  golf." 

"  Into  Norfolk  to  play  golf ! "  the  Prince  repeated  in 
a  tone  of  scornful  wonder.  "  Did  you  believe  a  story 
like  that,  Felix?  Rubbish!" 

Felix  smiled  slightly. 

"  It  is  quite  true,"  he  said.  "  Labanoff  makes  no  mis- 
takes, and  he  saw  him  come  out  of  his  house,  take  his  ticket 
at  King's  Cross,  and  actually  leave  the  station." 

"  Are  you  sure  that  it  is  not  a  blind?  "  the  Prince  asked 
incredulously. 

Felix  shook  his  head. 

"  It  is  quite  true,  your  Excellency,"  he  said.  "  If  you 
knew  the  man  as  well  as  I  do,  you  would  not  be  surprised. 
He  is  indeed  a  very  extraordinary  person — he  does  these 
sort  of  things.  Besides,  he  wants  to  keep  out  of  the  way." 

The  Prince's  face  darkened. 

"  He  will  find  my  way  a  little  hard  to  get  out  of,"  he  said 
fiercely.  "  Go  and  get  some  dinner,  Felix,  and  then  try 
and  find  out  whether  Knigenstein  has  any  notion  of  leaving 
England.  He  will  not  trust  a  matter  like  this  to  corre- 


"HE  HAS  GONE  TO  THE  EMPEROR/"  145 

spondence.  Stay — I  know  how  to  manage  it.  I  will  write 
and  ask  him  to  dine  here  next  week.  You  shall  take 
the  invitation." 

"  He  will  be  at  Arlington  Street,"  Felix  remarked. 

"Well,  you  can  take  it  on  to  him  there,"  the  Prince 
directed.  "  Go  first  to  his  house  and  ask  for  his  where- 
abouts. They  will  tell  you  Arlington  Street.  You  will  not 
know,  of  course,  the  contents  of  the  letter  you  carry  ;  your 
instructions  were  simply  to  deliver  it  and  get  an  answer. 
Good  !  you  will  do  that." 

The  Prince,  while  he  talked,  was  writing  the  note. 

Felix  thrust  it  into  his  pocket  and  went  out.  In  less 
than  half  an  hour  he  was  back.  The  Baron  had  returned  to 
the  German  Embassy  unexpectedly  before  going  to  Arling- 
ton Street,  and  Felix  had  caught  him  there.  The  Prince 
tore  open  the  answer,  and  read  it  hastily  through. 

"THE  GERMAN  EMBASSY, 

"  Wednesday  evening. 

"  Alas  !  my  dear  Prince,  had  I  been  able,  nothing  could 
have  given  me  so  much  pleasure  as  to  have  joined  your 
little  party,  but,  unfortunately,  this  wretched  climate,  which 
we  both  so  justly  loathe,  has  upset  my  throat  again,  and  I 
have  too  much  regard  for  my  life  to  hand  myself  over  to  the 
English  doctors.  Accordingly,  all  being  well,  I  go  to  Berlin 
to-morrow  night  to  consult  our  own  justly-famed  Dr. 
Steinlaus. 

"Accept,  my  dear  Prince,  this  expression  of  my  most 
sincere  regret,  and  believe  me,  yours  most  sincerely, 

"KARL  VON  KNIGENSTEIN." 

"  The  doctor  whom  he  has  gone  to  consult  is  no  man  of 
medicine,"  the  Prince  said  thoughtfully.  "  He  has  gone  to 
the  Emperor." 


10 


CHAPTER  XIX 

WOLFENDEN'S  LOVE-MAKING 

"  LORD  .WOLFENDEN  ?  " 

He  laughed  at  her  surprise,  and  took  off  his  cap.  He  was 
breathless,  for  he  had  been  scrambling  up  the  steep  side  of 
the  hill  on  which  she  was  standing,  looking  steadfastly  out 
to  sea.  Down  in  the  valley  from  which  he  had  come  a 
small  boy  with  a  bag  of  golf  clubs  on  his  back  was  standing, 
making  imaginary  swings  at  the  ball  which  lay  before  him. 

"  I  saw  you  from  below,"  he  explained.  "  I  couldn't  help 
coming  up.  You  don't  mind  ?  " 

"  No  ;  I  am  glad  to  see  you,"  she  said  simply.  "  You 
startled  me,  that  is  all.  I  did  not  hear  you  coming,  and  I 
had  forgotten  almost  where  I  was.  I  was  thinking." 

He  stood  by  her  side,  his  cap  still  in  his  hand,  facing  the 
strong  sea  wind.  Again  he  was  conscious  of  that  sense  of 
extreme  pleasure  which  had  always  marked  his  chance 
meetings  with  her.  This  time  he  felt  perhaps  that  there 
was  some  definite  reason  for  it.  There  was  something  in 
her  expression,  when  she  had  turned  so  swiftly  round,  which 
seemed  to  tell  him  that  her  first  words  were  not  altogether 
meaningless.  She  was  looking  a  little  pale,  and  he  fancied 
also  a  little  sad.  There  was  an  inexpressible  wistfulness 
about  her  soft,  dark  eyes  ;  the  light  and  charming  gaiety  of 
her  manner,  so  un-English  and  so  attractive  to  him,  had 
given  place  to  quite  another  mood.  Whatever  her  thoughts 
mipjht  have  been  when  he  had  first  seen  her  there,  her  tall, 

146 


WOLFEN DEN'S  LOVE-MAKING  147 

slim  figure  outlined  so  clearly  against  the  abrupt  sky  line, 
they  were  at  all  events  scarcely  pleasant  ones.  He  felt  that 
his  sudden  appearance  had  not  been  unwelcome  to  her,  and 
he  was  unreasonably  pleased. 

"  You  are  still  all  alone,"  he  remarked.  "  Has  Mr,  Sabin 
not  arrived  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  I  am  all  alone,  and  I  am  fearfully  and  miserably  dull. 
This  place  does  not  attract  me  at  all :  not  at  this  time  of 
the  year.  I  have  not  heard  from  my  uncle.  He  may  be 
here  at  any  moment." 

There  was  no  time  like  the  present.  He  was  suddenly 
bold.  It  was  an  opportunity  which  might  never  be  vouch- 
safed to  him  again. 

"  May  I  come  with  you — a  little  way  along  the  cliffs  ?  " 
he  asked. 

She  looked  at  him  and  hesitated.  More  than  ever  he 
was  aware  of  some  subtle  change  in  her.  It  was  as  though 
her  mental  attitude  towards  him  had  adapted  itself  in  some 
way  to  this  new  seriousness  of  demeanour.  It  was  written  in 
her  features — his  eyes  read  it  eagerly.  A  certain  aloofness, 
almost  hauteur,  about  the  lines  of  her  mouth,  creeping  out 
even  in  her  most  careless  tones,  and  plainly  manifest  in  the 
carriage  of  her  head,  was  absent.  She  seemed  immeasur- 
ably nearer  to  him.  She  was  softer  and  more  womanly. 
Even  her  voice  in  its  new  and  more  delicate  notes  betrayed 
the  change.  Perhaps  it  was  only  a  mood,  yet  he  would 
take  advantage  of  it. 

"What  about  your  golf?"  she  said,  motioning  down  into 
the  valley  where  his  antagonist  was  waiting. 

"  Oh,  I  can  easily  arrange  that,"  he  declared  cheerfully. 
"Fortunately  I  was  playing  the  professional  and  he  will 
not  mind  leaving  off." 

He  waved  to  his  caddie,  and  scribbled  a  few  lines  on  the 
back  of  a  card. 


148  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"  Give  that  to  McPherson,"  he  said.  "  You  can  clean 
my  clubs  and  put  them  in  my  locker.  I  shall  not  be 
playing  again  this  morning." 

The  boy  disappeared  down  the  hill.  They  stood  for  a 
moment  side  by  side. 

"  I  have  spoilt  your  game,"  she  said.     "  I  am  sorry." 

He  laughed. 

"I  think  you  know,"  he  said  boldly,  "that  I  would 
rather  spend  five  minutes  with  you  than  a  day  at  golf." 

She  moved  on  with  a  smile  at  the  corners  of  her  lips. 

"  What  a  downright  person  you  are ! "  she  said.  "  But 
honestly  to-day  I  am  not  in  the  mood  to  be  alone.  I  am 
possessed  with  an  uneasy  spirit  of  sadness.  I  am  afraid  of 
my  thoughts." 

"  I  am  only  sorry,"  he  said,  "  that  you  should  have  any 
that  are  not  happy  ones.  Don't  you  think  perhaps  that 
you  are  a  little  lonely?  You  seem  to  have  so  few  friends." 

"  It  is  not  that,"  she  answered.  "  I  have  many  and  very 
dear  friends,  and  it  is  only  for  a  little  time  that  I  am 
separated  from  them.  It  is  simply  that  I  am  not  used  to 
solitude,  and  I  am  becoming  a  creature  of  moods  and  pre- 
sentiments. It  is  very  foolish  that  I  give  way  to  them ; 
but  to-day  I  am  miserable.  You  must  stretch  out  that 
strong  hand  of  yours,  my  friend,  and  pull  me  up." 

"  I  will  do  my  best,"  he  said.  "  I  am  afraid  I  cannot 
claim  that  there  is  anything  in  the  shape  of  affinity  between 
us ;  for  to-day  I  am  particularly  happy." 

She  met  his  eyes  briefly,  and  looked  away  seawards  with 
the  ghost  of  a  sorrowful  smile  upon  her  lips.  Her  words 
sounded  like  a  warning. 

"  Do  not  be  sure,"  she  said.     "  It  may  not  last." 

"  It  will  last,"  he  said,  "  so  long  as  you  choose.  For 
to-day  you  are  the  mistress  of  my  moods  !  " 

"  Then  I  am  very  sorry  for  you,"  she  said  earnestly. 

He   laughed   it   off,   but  her  words   brought   a   certain 


WOLFENDEN'S  LOVE-MAKING  149 

depression  with  them.  He  went  on  to  speak  of  something 
else. 

"  I  have  been  thinking  about  you  this  morning,"  he  said. 
"  If  your  uncle  is  going  to  play  golf  here,  it  will  be  very 
dull  for  you.  Would  you  care  for  my  mother  to  come  and 
see  you  ?  She  would  be  delighted,  I  am  sure,  for  it  is  dull 
for  her  too,  and  she  is  fond  of  young  people.  If  you " 

He  stopped  short  She  was  shaking  her  head  slowly. 
The  old  despondency  was  back  in  her  face.  Her  eyes  were 
full  of  trouble.  She  laid  her  delicately  gloved  fingers  upon 
his  arm. 

"  My  friend,"  she  said,  "  it  is  very  kind  of  you  to  think 
of  it — but  it  is  impossible.  I  cannot  tell  you  why  as  I 
would  wish.  But  at  present  I  do  not  desire  any  acquaint- 
ances. I  must  not,  in  fact,  think  of  it  It  would  give  me 
great  pleasure  to  know  your  mother.  Only  I  must  not. 
Believe  me  that  it  is  impossible." 

Wolfenden  was  a  little  hurt — a  good  deal  mystified.  It 
was  a  very  odd  thing.  He  was  not  in  the  least  a  snob,  but 
he  knew  that  the  visit  of  the  Countess  of  Deringham,  whose 
name  was  still  great  in  the  social  world,  was  not  a  thing  to 
be  refused  without  grave  reasons  by  a  girl  in  the  position  of 
Mr.  Sabin's  niece.  The  old  question  came  back  to  him 
with  an  irresistible  emphasis.  Who  were  these  people  ? 
He  looked  at  her  furtively.  He  was  an  observant  man  in 
the  small  details  of  a  woman's  toilette,  and  he  knew  that  he 
had  never  met  a  girl  better  turned  out  than  his  present 
companion.  The  cut  of  her  tailor-made  gown  was  perfec- 
tion, her  gloves  and  boots  could  scarcely  have  come  from 
anywhere  but  Paris.  She  carried  herself  too  with  a  perfect 
ease  and  indefinable  distinction  which  could  only  have 
come  to  her  by  descent.  She  was  a  perfect  type  of  the 
woman  of  breeding — unrestrained,  yet  aristocratic  to  the 
tips  of  her  finger-nails. 

He  sighed  as  he  looked  away  from  her. 


ISO  MYSTERIOUS  MR   SABIN 

"  You  are  a  very  mysterious  young  woman,"  he  said,  with 
a  forced  air  of  gaiety. 

"  I  am  afraid  that  I  am,"  she  admitted  regretfully.  "  I 
can  assure  you  that  I  am  very  tired  of  it.  But — it  will  not 
last  for  very  much  longer." 

"  You  are  really  going  away,  then  ?  "  he  asked  quickly. 

"  Yes.     We  shall  not  be  in  England  much  longer." 

"You  are  going  for  good?"  he  asked.  "I  mean,  to 
remain  away?" 

"  When  we  go,"  she  said,  "  it  is  very  doubtful  if  ever  I 
shall  set  my  foot  on  English  soil  again." 

He  drew  a  quick  breath.  It  was  his  one  chance,  then. 
Her  last  words  must  be  his  excuse  for  such  precipitation. 
They  had  scrambled  down  through  an  opening  in  the  cliffs, 
and  there  was  no  one  else  in  sight.  Some  instinct  seemed 
to  tell  her  what  was  coming.  She  tried  to  talk,  but  she 
could  not.  His  hand  had  closed  upon  hers,  and  she  had 
not  the  strength  to  draw  it  away.  It  was  so  very  English 
this  sudden  wooing.  No  one  had  ever  dared  to  touch  her 
fingers  before  without  first  begging  permission. 

"  Don't  you  know — Helene — that  I  love  you  ?  I  want 
you  to  live  in  England — to  be  my  wife.  Don't  say  that 
I  haven't  a  chance.  I  know  that  I  ought  not  to  have 
spoken  yet,  but  you  are  going  away  so  soon,  and  I  am 
so  afraid  that  I  might  not  see  you  again  alone.  Don't 
stop  me,  please.  I  am  not  asking  you  now  for  your  love. 
I  know  that  it  is  too  soon — to  hope  for  that — altogether ! 
I  only  want  you  to  know,  and  to  be  allowed  to  hope." 

"  You  must  not.     It  is  impossible." 

The  words  were  very  low,  and  they  came  from  her 
quivering  with  intense  pain.  He  released  her  fingers.  She 
leaned  upon  a  huge  boulder  near  and,  resting  her  face  upon 
her  hand,  gazed  dreamily  out  to  sea. 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  she  said.  "  My  uncle  was  right 
after  all.  It  was  not  wise  for  us  to  meet.  I  ought  to 


"  It  was  so  very  English,  this  sudden  wooing." 


\_Page  150. 


WOLFENDEN'S  LOVE-MAKING  151 

have  no  friends.  It  was  not  wise — it  was  very,  very 
foolish." 

Being  a  man,  his  first  thoughts  had  been  for  himself. 
But  at  her  words  he  forgot  everything  except  that  she  too 
was  unhappy. 

"Do  you  mean,"  he  said  slowly,  "  that  you  cannot  care 
for  me,  or  that  there  are  difficulties  which  seem  to  you  to 
make  it  impossible  ?  " 

She  looked  up  at  him,  and  he  scarcely  knew  her  trans- 
figured face,  with  the  tears  glistening  upon  her  eyelashes. 

"  Do  not  tempt  me  to  say  what  might  make  both  of  us 
more  unhappy,"  she  begged.  "  Be  content  to  know  that  I 
cannot  marry  you." 

"  You  have  promised  somebody  else  ?  " 

"  I  shall  probably  marry,"  she  said  deliberately,  "  some- 
body else." 

He  ground  his  heel  into  the  soft  sands,  and  his  eyes 
flashed. 

"  You  are  being  coerced  !  "  he  cried. 

She  lifted  her  head  proudly. 

"  There  is  no  person  breathing,"  she  said  quietly,  "  who 
would  dare  to  attempt  such  a  thing  !  " 

Then  he  looked  out  with  her  towards  the  sea,  and  they 
watched  the  long,  rippling  waves  break  upon  the  brown 
sands,  the  faint  and  unexpected  gleam  of  wintry  sunshine 
lying  upon  the  bosom  of  the  sea,  and  the  screaming  sea- 
gulls, whose  white  wings  shone  like  alabaster  against  the 
darker  clouds.  For  him  these  things  were  no  longer 
beautiful,  nor  did  he  see  the  sunlight,  which  with  a  sudden 
fitfulness  had  warmed  the  air.  It  was  all  very  cold  and 
grey.  It  was  not  possible  for  him  to  read  the  riddle  yet — 
she  had  not  said  that  she  could  not  care  for  him.  There 
was  that  hope  ! 

"  There  is  no  one,"  he  said  slowly,  "  who  could  coerce 
you  ?  You  will  not  marry  me,  but  you  will  probably  marry 


i$2  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

somebody  else.  Is  it,  then,  that  you  care  for  this  other 
man,  and  not  for  me  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  Of  the  two,"  she  said,  with  a  faint  attempt  at  her  old 
manner,  "  I  prefer  you.  Yet  I  shall  marry  him." 

Wolfenden  became  aware  of  an  unexpected  sensation. 
He  was  getting  angry. 

"I  have  a  right,"  he  said,  resting  his  hand  upon  her 
shoulder,  and  gaining  courage  from  her  evident  weakness, 
"  to  know  more.  I  have  given  you  my  love.  At  least 
you  owe  me  in  return  your  confidence.  Let  me  have  it. 
You  shall  see  that  if  even  if  I  may  not  be  your  lover,  I  can 
at  least  be  your  faithful  friend." 

She  touched  his  hand  tenderly.  It  was  scarcely  kind  of 
her — certainly  not  wise.  She  had  taken  off  her  glove,  and 
the  touch  of  her  soft,  delicate  fingers  thrilled  him.  The 
blood  rushed  through  his  veins  like  mad  music.  The  long- 
ing to  take  her  into  his  arms  was  almost  uncontrollable. 
Her  dark  eyes  looked  upon  him  very  kindly. 

"My  friend,"  she  said,  "I  know  that  you  would  be 
faithful.  You  must  not  be  angry  with  me.  Nay,  it  is 
your  pity  I  want.  Some  day  you  will  know  all.  Then  you 
will  understand.  Perhaps  even  you  will  be  sorry  for  me,  if 
I  am  not  forgotten.  I  only  wish  that  I  could  tell  you 
more;  only  I  may  not.  It  makes  me  sad  to  deny  you, 
but  I  must." 

"  I  mean  to  know,"  he  said  doggedly — "  I  mean  to  know 
everything.  You  are  sacrificing  yourself.  To  talk  of 
marrying  a  man  whom  you  do  not  love  is  absurd.  Who 
are  you?  If  you  do  not  tell  me,  I  shall  go  to  your 
guardian.  I  shall  go  to  Mr.  Sabin." 

"Mr.  Sabin  is  always  at  your  service,"  said  a  suave 
voice  almost  at  his  elbow.  "Never  more  so  than  at  the 
present." 

Wolfenden  turned  round  with  a  start.      It  was  indeed 


WOLFENDEN'S  LOVE-MAKING  153 

Mr.  Sabin  who  stood  there — Mr.  Sabin,  in  unaccustomed 
guise,  clad  in  a  tweed  suit  and  leaning  upon  an  ordinary 
walking-stick. 

"Come,"  he  said  good-humouredly,  "don't  look  at  me 
as  though  I  were  something  uncanny.  If  you  had  not 
been  so  very  absorbed  you  would  have  heard  me  call  to 
you  from  the  cliffs.  I  wanted  to  save  myself  the  climb,  but 
you  were  deaf,  both  of  you.  Am  I  the  first  man  whose 
footsteps  upon  the  sands  have  fallen  lightly  ?  Now,  what 
is  it  you  want  to  ask  me,  Lord  Wolfenden  ?  " 

Wolfenden  was  in  no  way  disturbed  at  the  man's  coming. 
On  the  contrary,  he  was  glad  of  it.  He  answered  boldly 
and  without  hesitation. 

"  I  want  to  marry  your  niece,  Mr.  Sabin,"  he  said. 

"Very  natural  indeed,"  Mr.  Sabin  remarked  easily.  "If 
I  were  a  young  man  of  your  age  and  evident  taste  I  have 
not  the  least  doubt  but  that  I  should  want  to  marry  her 
myself.  I  offer  you  my  sincere  sympathy.  Unfortunately 
it  is  impossible." 

"  I  want  to  know,"  Wolfenden  said,  "  why  it  is  impos- 
sible ?  I  want  a  reason  of  some  sort." 

"You  shall  have  one  with  pleasure,"  Mr.  Sabin  said. 
"  My  niece  is  already  betrothed." 

"  To  a  man,"  Wolfenden  exclaimed  indignantly,  "  whom 
she  admits  that  she  does  not  care  for  ! " 

"Whom  she  has  nevertheless,"  Mr.  Sabin  said  firmly, 
and  with  a  sudden  flash  of  anger  in  his  eyes,  "  agreed  and 
promised  of  her  own  free  will  to  marry.  Look  here,  Lord 
Wolfenden,  I  do  not  desire  to  quarrel  with  you.  You  saved 
me  from  a  very  awkward  accident  a  few  nights  ago,  and 
I  remain  your  debtor.  Be  reasonable !  My  niece  has 
refused  your  offer.  I  confirm  her  refusal.  Your  proposal 
does  us  both  much  honour,  but  it  is  utterly  out  of  the 
question.  That  is  putting  it  plainly,  is  it  not  ?  Now,  you 
must  choose  for  yourself — whether  you  will  drop  the  subject 


154  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

and  remain  our  valued  friend,  or  whether  you  compel 
me  to  ask  you  to  leave  us  at  once,  and  consider  us  hence- 
forth as  strangers." 

The  girl  laid  her  hand  upon  his  shoulder  and  looked  at 
him  pleadingly. 

"  For  my  sake,"  she  said,  "  choose  to  remain  our  friend, 
and  let  this  be  forgotten." 

"  For  your  sake,  I  consent,"  he  said.  "  But  I  give  no 
promise  that  I  will  not  at  some  future  time  reopen  the 
subject" 

"  You  will  do  so,"  Mr.  Sabin  said,  "  exactly  when  you 
desire  to  close  your  acquaintance  with  us.  For  the  rest, 
you  have  chosen  wisely.  Now  I  am  going  to  take  you 
home,  Helene.  Afterwards,  if  Lord  Wolfenden  will  give 
me  a  match,  I  shall  be  delighted  to  have  a  round  of  golf 
with  him." 

"  I  shall  be  very  pleased,"  Wolfenden  answered. 

"I  will  see  you  at  the  Pavilion  in  half  an  hour,"  Mr. 
Sabin  said.  "  In  the  meantime,  you  will  please  excuse  us. 
I  have  a  few  words  to  say  to  my  niece." 

She  held  out  both  her  hands,  looking  at  him  half  kindly, 
half  wistfully. 

"  Goodbye,"  she  said.     "  I  am  so  sorry  ! " 

But  he  looked  straight  into  her  eyes,  and  he  answered 
her  bravely.  He  would  not  admit  defeat. 

"  I  hope  that  you  are  not,"  he  said.  "  I  shall  never 
regret  it." 


CHAPTER  XX 


WOLFENDEN  was  in  no  particularly  cheerful  frame  of  mind 
when,  a  few  moments  after  the  half  hour  was  up,  Mr. 
Sabin  appeared  upon  the  pavilion  tee,  followed  by  a  tall, 
dark  young  man  carrying  a  bag  of  golf  clubs.  Mr.  Sabin, 
on  the  other  hand,  was  inclined  to  be  sardonically  cheerful. 

"  Your  handicap,"  he  remarked,  "  is  two.  Mine  is  one. 
Suppose  we  play  level.  We  ought  to  make  a  good  match." 

Wolfenden  looked  at  him  in  surprise. 

"  Did  you  say  one  ?  " 

Mr.  Sabin  smiled. 

"  Yes ;  they  give  me  one  at  Pau  and  Cannes.  My  foot 
interferes  very  little  with  my  walking  upon  turf.  All  the 
same,  I  expect  you  will  find  me  an  easy  victim  here.  Shall 
I  drive?  Just  here,  Dumayne,"  he  added,  pointing  to 
a  convenient  spot  upon  the  tee  with  the  head  of  his 
driver.  "Not  too  much  sand." 

"  Where  did  you  get  your  caddie  ? "  Wolfenden  asked. 
"He  is  not  one  of  ours,  is  he?  " 

Mr.  Sabin  shook  his  head. 

"  I  found  him  on  some  links  in  the  South  of  France,"  he 
answered.  "  He  is  the  only  caddie  I  ever  knew  who  could 
make  a  decent  tee,  so  I  take  him  about  with  me.  He  valets 
me  as  well.  That  will  do  nicely,  Dumayne." 

Mr.  Sabin's  expression  suddenly  changed.  His  body,  as 
though  by  instinct,  fell  into  position.  He  scarcely  altered 

155 


156  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

his  stand  an  inch  from  the  position  he  had  first  taken  up. 
Wolfenden,  who  had  expected  a  half-swing,  was  amazed 
at  the  wonderfully  lithe,  graceful  movement  with  which 
he  stooped  down  and  the  club  flew  round  his  shoulder. 
Clean  and  true  the  ball  flew  off  the  tee  in  a  perfectly 
direct  line — a  capital  drive  only  a  little  short  of  the  two 
hundred  yards.  Master  and  servant  watched  it  critically. 

"A  fairly  well  hit  ball,  I  think,  Dumayne,"  Mr.  Sabin 
remarked. 

"  You  got  it  quite  clean  away,  sir,"  the  man  answered. 
"  It  hasn't  run  very  well  though  ;  you  will  find  it  a  little 
near  the  far  bunker  for  a  comfortable  second." 

"  I  shall  carry  it  all  right,"  Mr.  Sabin  said  quietly. 

Wolfenden  also  drove  a  long  ball,  but  with  a  little  slice. 
He  had  to  play  the  odd,  and  caught  the  top  of  the  bunker. 
The  hole  fell  to  Mr.  Sabin  in  four. 

They  strolled  off  towards  the  second  teeing  ground. 

"  Are  you  staying  down  here  for  long  ? "  Mr.  Sabin 
asked. 

Wolfenden  hesitated. 

"  I  am  not  sure,"  he  said.  "  I  am  rather  oddly  situated 
at  home.  At  any  rate  I  shall  probably  be  here  as  long  as 
you." 

"  I  am  not  sure  about  that,"  Mr.  Sabin  said.  "  I  think 
that  I  am  going  to  like  these  links,  and  if  so  I  shall  not 
hurry  away.  Forgive  me  if  I  am  inquisitive,  but  your 
reference  to  home  affairs  is,  I  presume,  in  connection 
with  your  father's  health.  I  was  very  sorry  to  hear  that 
he  is  looked  upon  now  as  a  confirmed  invalid." 

Wolfenden  assented  gravely.  He  did  not  wish  to  talk 
about  his  father  to  Mr.  Sabin.  On  the  other  hand,  Mr. 
Sabin  was  politely  persistent. 

"  He  does  not,  I  presume,  receive  visitors,"  he  said,  as 
they  left  the  tee  after  the  third  drive. 

"  Never,"  Wolfenden  answered  decisively.     "  He  suffers 


FROM  A  DIM  WORLD  157 

d  good  deal  in  various  ways,  and  apart  from  that  he  is  very 
much  absorbed  in  the  collection  of  some  statistics  con- 
nected with  a  hobby  of  his.  He  does  not  see  even  his 
oldest  friends." 

Mr.  Sabin  was  obviously  interested. 

"  Many  years  ago,"  he  said,  "  I  met  your  father  at 
Alexandria.  He  was  then  in  command  of  the  Victoria. 
He  would  perhaps  scarcely  recollect  me  now,  but  at  the 
time  he  made  me  promise  to  visit  him  if  ever  I  was  in 
England.  It  must  be — yes,  it  surely  must  be  nearly  fifteen 
years  ago." 

"  I  am  afraid,"  Wolfenden  remarked,  watching  the  flight 
of  his  ball  after  a  successful  brassy  shot,  "  that  he  would 
have  forgotten  all  about  it  by  now.  His  memory  has 
suffered  a  good  deal." 

Mr.  Sabin  addressed  his  own  ball,  and  from  a  bad  lie 
sent  it  flying  a  hundred  and  fifty  yards  with  a  peculiar, 
jerking  shot  which  Wolfenden  watched  with  envy. 

"  You  must  have  a  wonderful  eye,"  he  remarked,  "  to  hit 
a  ball  with  a  full  swing  lying  like  that.  Nine  men  out  of 
ten  would  have  taken  an  iron." 

Mr.  Sabin  shrugged  his  shoulders.  He  did  not  wish  to 
talk  golf. 

"  I  was  about  to  remark,"  he  said,  "  that  your  father  had 
then  the  reputation  of,  and  impressed  me  as  being,  the  best 
informed  man  with  regard  to  English  naval  affairs  with 
whom  I  ever  conversed." 

"  He  was  considered  an  authority,  I  believe,"  Wolfenden 
admitted. 

"What  I  particularly  admired  about  him,"  Mr.  Sabin 
continued,  "was  the  absence  of  that  cocksureness  which 
sometimes,  L  am  afraid,  almost  blinds  the  judgment  of  your 
great  naval  officers.  I  have  heard  him  even  discuss  the 
possibility  of  an  invasion  of  England  with  the  utmost  gravity. 
He  admitted  that  it  was  far  from  improbable." 


158  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"  My  father's  views,"  Wolfenden  said,  "  have  always  been 
pessimistic  as  regards  the  actual  strength  of  our  navy  and 
coast  defences.  I  believe  he  used  to  make  himself  a  great 
nuisance  at  the  Admiralty." 

"  He  has  ceased  now,  I  suppose,"  Mr.  Sabin  remarked, 
"to  take  much  interest  in  the  matter?" 

"  I  can  scarcely  say  that,"  Wolfenden  answered.  "  His 
interest,  however,  has  ceased  to  be  official.  I  daresay  you 
have  heard  that  he  was  in  command  of  the  Channel  Fleet  at 
the  time  of  the  terrible  disaster  in  the  Solent.  He  retired 
almost  immediately  afterwards,  and  we  fear  that  his  health 
will  never  altogether  recover  from  the  shock." 

There  was  a  short  intermission  in  the  conversation. 
Wolfenden  had  sliced  his  ball  badly  from  the  sixth  tee,  and 
Mr.  Sabin,  having  driven  as  usual  with  almost  mathematical 
precision,  their  ways  for  a  few  minutes  lay  apart.  They 
came  together,  however,  on  the  putting-green,  and  had 
a  short  walk  to  the  next  tee. 

"That  was  a  very  creditable  half  to  you,"  Mr.  Sabin 
remarked. 

"  My  approach,"  Wolfenden  admitted,  "  was  a  lucky 
one." 

"  It  was  a  very  fine  shot,"  Mr.  Sabin  insisted.  "  The 
spin  helped  you,  of  course,  but  you  were  justified  in  allow- 
ing for  that,  especially  as  you  seem  to  play  most  of  your 
mashie  shots  with  a  cut.  What  were  we  talking  about? 
Oh,  I  remember  of  course.  It  was  about  your  father  and 
the  Solent  catastrophe.  Admiral  Deringham  was  not  con- 
cerned with  the  actual  disaster  in  any  way,  was  he  ?  " 

Wolfenden  shook  his  hand. 

"Thank  God,  no  !"  he  said  emphatically.  "  But  Admiral 
Marston  was  his  dearest  friend,  and  he  saw  him  go  down 
with  six  hundred  of  his  men.  He  was  so  close  that  they 
even  shouted  farewells  to  one  another." 

"  It    must    have   been   a   terrible    shock,'     Mr.    Sabin 


FROM  A  DIM  WORLD  159 

admitted.  "  No  wonder  he  has  suffered  from  it.  Now 
you  have  spoken  of  it,  I  think  I  remember  reading  about 
his  retirement.  A  sad  thing  for  a  man  of  action,  as  he 
always  was.  Does  he  remain  in  Norfolk  all  the  year 
round  ?  " 

"He  never  leaves  Deringham  Hall,"  Wolfenden  answered. 
"  He  used  to  make  short  yachting  cruises  until  last  year, 
but  that  is  all  over  now.  It  is  twelve  months  since  he 
stepped  outside  his  own  gates." 

Mr.  Sabin  remained  deeply  interested. 

"  Has  he  any  occupation  beyond  this  hobby  of  which 
you  spoke  ? "  he  asked.  "  He  rides  and  shoots  a  little, 
I  suppose,  like  the  rest  of  your  country  gentlemen." 

Then  for  the  first  time  Wolfenden  began  to  wonder  dimly 
whether  Mr.  Sabin  had  some  purpose  of  his  own  in  so 
closely  pursuing  the  thread  of  this  conversation.  He  looked 
at  him  keenly.  At  the  moment  his  attention  seemed  alto- 
gether directed  to  the  dangerous  proximity  of  his  ball  and 
a  tall  sand  bunker.  Throughout  his  interest  had  seemed  to 
be  fairly  divided  between  the  game  and  the  conversation 
which  he  had  initiated.  None  the  less  Wolfenden  was 
puzzled.  He  could  scarcely  believe  that  Mr.  Sabin  had 
any  real,  personal  interest  in  his  father,  but  on  the  other 
hand  it  was  not  easy  to  understand  this  persistent  ques- 
tioning as  to  his  occupation  and  doings.  The  last  inquiry, 
carelessly  though  it  was  asked,  was  a  direct  one.  It  seemed 
scarcely  worth  while  to  evade  it. 

"  No ;  my  father  has  special  interests,"  he  answered 
slowly.  "  He  is  engaged  now  upon  some  work  connected 
with  his  profession." 

"  Indeed  ! " 

Mr.  Sabin's  exclamation  suggested  a  curiosity  which  it 
was  not  Wolfenden's  purpose  to  gratify.  He  remained 
silent.  The  game  proceeded  without  remark  for  a  quarter 
of  an  hour.  Wolfenden  was  now  three  down,  and  with  all 


i6o  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

the  stimulus  of  a  strong  opponent  he  set  himself  to  recover 
lost  ground.  The  ninth  hole  he  won  with  a  fine,  long  putt, 
which  Mr.  Sabin  applauded  heartily. 

They  drove  from  the  next  tee  and  walked  together  after 
their  balls,  which  lay  within  a  few  yards  of  one  another. 

"  I  am  very  much  interested,"  Mr.  Sabin  remarked,  "  in 
what  you  have  been  telling  me  about  your  father.  It  con- 
firms rather  a  curious  story  about  Lord  Deringham  which 
I  heard  in  London  a  few  weeks  ago.  I  was  told,  I  forget 
by  whom,  that  your  father  had  devoted  years  of  his  life  to 
a  wonderfully  minute  study  of  English  coast  defences  and 
her  naval  strength.  My  informant  went  on  to  say  that — 
forgive  me,  but  this  was  said  quite  openly  you  know — that 
whilst  on  general  matters  your  father's  mental  health  was 
scarcely  all  that  could  be  desired,  his  work  in  connection 
with  these  two  subjects  was  of  great  value.  It  struck  me 
as  being  a  very  singular  and  a  very  interesting  case." 

Wolfenden  shook  his  head  dubiously. 

"  Your  informant  was  misled,  I  am  afraid,"  he  said.  "  My 
father  takes  his  hobby  very  seriously,  and  of  course  we 
humour  him.  But  as  regards  the  value  of  his  work  I  am 
afraid  it  is  worthless." 

"  Have  you  tested  it  yourself?"  Mr.  Sabin  asked. 

"  I  have  only  seen  a  few  pages,"  Wolfenden  admitted, 
"  but  they  were  wholly  unintelligible.  My  chief  authority 
is  his  own  secretary,  who  is  giving  up  an  excellent  place 
simply  because  he  is  ashamed  to  take  money  for  assisting 
in  work  which  he  declares  to  be  utterly  hopeless." 

"  He  is  a  man,"  Mr.  Sabin  remarked,  "  whom  you  can 
trust,  I  suppose  ?  His  judgment  is  not  likely  to  be  at  fault." 

"There  is  not  the  faintest  chance  of  it,"  Wolfenden 
declared.  "  He  is  a  very  simple,  good-hearted  little  chap 
and  tremendously  conscientious.  What  your  friend  told 
you,  by  the  bye,  reminds  me  of  rather  a  curious  thing 
which  happened  yesterday." 


FROM  A  DIM  WORLD  161 

Wolfenden  paused.  There  did  not  seem,  however,  to  be 
any  reason  for  concealment,  and  his  companion  was  evi- 
dently deeply  interested. 

"A  man  called  upon  us,"  Wolfenden  continued,  "with 
a  letter  purporting  to  be  from  our  local  doctor  here.  He 
gave  his  name  as  Franklin  Wilmot,  the  celebrated  physician, 
you  know,  and  explained  that  he  was  interested  in  a  new 
method  of  treating  mental  complaints.  He  was  very 
plausible  and  he  explained  everything  unusual  about  his 
visit  most  satisfactorily.  He  wanted  a  sight  of  the  work 
on  which  my  father  was  engaged,  and  after  talking  it  over 
we  introduced  him  into  the  study  during  my  father's 
absence.  From  it  he  promised  to  give  us  a  general 
opinion  upon  the  case  and  its  treatment.  Whilst  he  was 
there  our  doctor  drove  up  in  hot  haste.  The  letter  was 
a  forgery,  the  man  an  impostor." 

Wolfenden,  glancing  towards  Mr.  Sabin  as  he  finished 
his  story,  was  surprised  at  the  tatter's  imperfectly  concealed 
interest.  His  lips  were  indrawn,  his  face  seemed  instinct 
with  a  certain  passionate  but  finely  controlled  emotion. 
Only  the  slight  hiss  of  his  breath  and  the  gleam  of  his  black 
eyes  betrayed  him. 

"  What  happened  ? "  he  asked.  "  Did  you  secure  the 
fellow?" 

Wolfenden  played  a  long  shot  and  waited  whilst  he 
watched  the  run  of  his  ball.  Then  he  turned  towards 
his  companion  and  shook  his  head. 

"  No !  He  was  a  great  deal  too  clever  for  that.  He 
sent  me  out  to  meet  Whitlett,  and  when  we  got  back  he 
had  shown  us  a  clean  pair  of  heels.  He  got  away  through 
the  window." 

"  Did  he  take  away  any  papers  with  him  ? "  Mr.  Sabin 
asked. 

"  He  may  have  taken  a  loose  sheet  or  two,"  Wolfenden 
said.  "  Nothing  of  any  consequence,  I  think.  He  had  no 

ii 


162  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

time.  I  don't  think  that  that  could  have  been  his  object 
altogether,  or  he  would  scarcely  have  suggested  my  remain- 
ing with  him  in  the  study." 

Mr.  Sabin  drew  a  quick,  little  breath.  He  played  an  iron 
shot,  and  played  it  very  badly. 

"  It  was  a  most  extraordinary  occurrence,"  he  remarked. 
"  What  was  the  man  like  ?  Did  he  seem  like  an  ordinary 
thief?  " 

Wolfenden  shook  his  head  decidedly. 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  he  declared.  "  He  was  well  dressed 
and  his  manners  were  excellent.  He  had  all  the  appearance 
of  a  man  of  position.  He  completely  imposed  upon  both 
my  mother  and  myself." 

"How  long  were  you  in  the  study  before  Dr.  Whitlett 
arrived  ?  "  Mr.  Sabin  asked. 

"  Barely  five  minutes." 

It  was  odd,  but  Mr.  Sabin  seemed  positively  relieved. 

"  And  Mr.  Blatherwick,"  he  asked,  "  where  was  he  all  the 
time?" 

"  Who  ?  "  Wolfenden  asked  in  surprise. 

"  Mr.  Blatherwick — your  father's  secretary,"  Mr.  Sabin 
repeated  coolly ;  "  I  understood  you  to  say  that  his  name 
was  Blatherwick." 

"  I  don't  remember  mentioning  his  name  at  all," 
Wolfenden  said,  vaguely  disturbed. 

Mr.  Sabin  addressed  his  ball  with  care  and  played  it 
deliberately  on  to  the  green.  Then  he  returned  to  the 
subject. 

"  I  think  that  you  must  have  done,"  he  said  suavely, 
"or  I  should  scarcely  have  known  it.  Was  he  in  the 
room  ?  " 

"  All  the  time,"  Wolfenden  answered. 

Mr.  Sabin  drew  another  little  breath. 

"  He  was  there  when  the  fellow  bolted  ?  " 

Wolfenden  nodded. 


FROM  A  DIM  WORLD  163 

"Why  did  he  not  try  to  stop  him  ?  " 

Wolfenden  smiled. 

"Physically,"  he  remarked,  "it  would  have  been  an  im- 
possibility. Blatherwick  is  a  small  man  and  an  exceedingly 
nervous  one.  He  is  an  honest  little  fellow,  but  I  am  afraid 
he  would  not  have  shone  in  an  encounter  of  that  sort." 

Mr.  Sabin  was  on  the  point  of  asking  another  question, 
but  Wolfenden  interrupted  him.  He  scarcely  knew  why, 
but  he  wanted  to  get  away  from  the  subject.  He  was  sorry 
that  he  had  ever  broached  it. 

"  Come,"  he  said,  "  we  are  talking  too  much.  Let  us 
play  golf.  I  am  sure  I  put  you  off  that  last  stroke." 

Mr.  Sabin  took  the  hint  and  was  silent.  They  were  on 
the  eleventh  green,  and  bordering  it  on  the  far  side  was 
an  open  road — the  sea  road,  which  followed  the  coast  for 
a  mile  or  two  and  then  turned  inland  to  Deringham. 
Wolfenden,  preparing  to  putt,  heard  wheels  close  at  hand, 
and  as  the  stroke  was  a  critical  one  for  him  he  stood  back 
from  his  ball  till  the  vehicle  had  passed.  Glancing  care- 
lessly up,  he  saw  his  own  blue  liveries  and  his  mother 
leaning  back  in  a  barouche.  With  a  word  of  apology  to  his 
opponent,  he  started  forward  to  meet  her. 

The  coachman,  who  had  recognised  him,  pulled  up  his 
horses  in  the  middle  of  the  road.  Wolfenden  walked  swiftly 
over  to  the  carriage  side.  His  mother's  appearance  had 
alarmed  him.  She  was  looking  at  him,  and  yet  past  him. 
Her  cheeks  were  pale.  Her  eyes  were  set  and  distended. 
One  of  her  hands  seemed  to  be  convulsively  clutching  the 
side  of  the  carriage  nearest  to  her.  She  had  all  the  appear- 
ance of  a  woman  who  is  suddenly  face  to  face  with  some 
terrible  vision.  Wolfenden  looked  over  his  shoulder  quickly. 
He  could  see  nothing  more  alarming  in  the  background  than 
the  figure  of  his  opponent,  who,  with  his  back  partly  turned 
to  them,  was  gazing  out  to  sea.  He  stood  at  the  edge  of 
the  green  on  slightly  rising  ground,  and  his  figure  was  out- 


164  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

lined  with  almost  curious  distinctness  against  the  background 
of  air  and  sky. 

"  Has  anything  fresh  happened,  mother  ?  "  Wolfenden 
asked,  with  concern.  "  I  am  afraid  you  are  upset.  Were 
you  looking  for  me  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head.  It  struck  him  that  she  was  en- 
deavouring to  assume  a  composure  which  she  assuredly  did 
not  possess. 

"  No ;  there  is  nothing  fresh.  Naturally  I  am  not  well. 
I  am  hoping  that  the  drive  will  do  me  good.  Are  you 
enjoying  your  golf?  " 

"Very  much,"  Wolfenden  answered.  "The  course  has 
really  been  capitally  kept.  We  are  having  a  close  match." 

"  Who  is  your  opponent  ?  " 

Wolfenden  glanced  behind  him  carelessly.  Mr.  Sabin 
had  thrown  several  balls  upon  the  green,  and  was  practising 
long  putts. 

"Fellow  named  Sabin,"  he  answered.  "No  one  you 
would  be  likely  to  be  interested  in.  He  comes  down  from 
London,  and  he  plays  a  remarkably  fine  game.  Rather  a 
saturnine-looking  personage,  isn't  he  ?  " 

"  He  is  a  most  unpleasant-looking  man,"  Lady  Dering- 
ham  faltered,  white  now  to  the  lips.  "  Where  did  you 
meet  him  ?  Here  or  in  London  ?  " 

"  In  London,"  Wolfenden  explained.  "  Rather  a  curious 
meeting  it  was  too.  A  fellow  attacked  him  coming  out  of 
a  restaurant  one  night  and  I  interfered — just  in  time.  He 
has  taken  a  little  house  down  here." 

"  Is  he  alone  ?  "  Lady  Deringham  asked. 

"  He  has  a  niece  living  with  him,"  Wolfenden  answered. 
"  She  is  a  very  charming  girl.  I  think  that  you  would  like 
her." 

The  last  words  he  added  with  something  of  an  effort,  and 
an  indifference  which  was  palpably  assumed.  Lady  Dering- 
ham, however,  did  not  appear  to  notice  them  at  all. 


FROM  A  DIM  WORLD  165 

"Have  no  more  to  do  with  him  than  you  can  help, 
Wolfenden,"  she  said,  leaning  a  little  over  to  him,  and 
speaking  in  a  half-  fearful  whisper.  "  I  think  his  face  is 
awful." 

Wolfenden  laughed. 

"I  am  not  likely  to  see  a  great  deal  of  him,"  he  declared. 
"  In  fact  I  can't  say  that  he  seems  very  cordially  disposed 
towards  me,  considering  that  I  saved  him  from  rather  a 
nasty  accident.  By  the  bye,  he  said  something  about 
having  met  the  Admiral  at  Alexandria.  You  have  never 
come  across  him,  I  suppose  ?  " 

The  sun  was  warm  and  the  wind  had  dropped,  or 
Wolfenden  could  almost  have  declared  that  his  mother's 
teeth  were  chattering.  Her  eyes  were  fixed  again  in  a  rigid 
stare  which  passed  him  by  and  travelled  beyond.  He 
looked  over  his  shoulder.  Mr.  Sabin,  apparently  tired 
of  practising,  was  standing  directly  facing  them,  leaning 
upon  his  putter.  He  was  looking  steadfastly  at  Lady 
Deringham,  not  in  the  least  rudely,  but  with  a  faint  show 
of  curiosity  and  a  smile  which  in  no  way  improved  his 
appearance  slightly  parting  his  lips.  Meeting  his  gaze, 
Wolfenden  looked  away  with  an  odd  feeling  of  uneasiness. 

"  You  are  right,"  he  said.  "  His  face  is  really  a  hand- 
some one  in  a  way,  but  he  certainly  is  not  prepossessing- 
looking  !  " 

Lady  Deringham  had  recovered  herself.  She  leaned 
back  amongst  the  cushions. 

"  Didn't  you  ask  me,"  she  said,  "  whether  I  had  ever 
met  the  man?  I  cannot  remember — certainly  I  was  at 
Alexandria  with  your  father,  so  perhaps  I  did.  You  will 
be  home  to  dinner?" 

He  nodded. 

"  Of  course.     How  is  the  Admiral  to-day  ?  " 

"  Remarkably  well.  He  asked  for  you  just  before  I  came 
out." 


166  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"  I  shall  see  him  at  dinner,"  Wolfenden  said.  "  Perhaps 
he  will  let  me  smoke  a  cigar  with  him  afterwards." 

He  stood  away  from  the  carriage  and  lifted  his  cap  with 
a  smile.  The  coachman  touched  his  horses  and  the 
barouche  rolled  on.  Wolfenden  walked  slowly  back  to 
his  companion. 

"You  will  excuse  my  leaving  you,"  he  said.  "I  was 
afraid  that  my  mother  might  have  been  looking  for  me." 

"  By  all  means,"  Mr.  Sabin  answered.  "  I  hope  that  you 
did  not  hurry  on  my  account.  I  am  trying,"  he  added, 
"  to  recollect  if  ever  I  met  Lady  Deringham.  At  my  time 
of  life  one's  reminiscences  become  so  chaotic." 

He  looked  keenly  at  Wolfenden,  who  answered  him  after 
a  moment's  hesitation. 

"  Lady  Deringham  was  at  Alexandria  with  my  father,  so 
it  is  just  possible,"  he  said. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

HARCUTT'S    INSPIRATION 

WOLFENDEN  lost  his  match  upon  the  last  hole ;  nevertheless 
it  was  a  finely  contested  game,  and  when  Mr.  Sabin  pro- 
posed a  round  on  the  following  day,  he  accepted  without 
hesitation.  He  did  not  like  Mr.  Sabin  any  the  better — in 
fact  he  was  beginning  to  acquire  a  deliberate  distrust  of  him. 
Something  of  that  fear  with  which  other  people  regarded 
him  had  already  communicated  itself  to  Wolfenden.  With- 
out having  the  shadow  of  a  definite  suspicion  with  regard 
to  the  man  or  his  character,  he  was  inclined  to  resent  that 
interest  in  the  state  of  affairs  at  Deringham  Hall  which  Mr. 
Sabin  had  undoubtedly  manifested.  At  the  same  time  he 
was  Helene's  guardian,  and  so  long  as  he  occupied  that 
position  Wolfenden  was  not  inclined  to  give  up  his 
acquaintance. 

They  parted  in  the  pavilion,  Wolfenden  lingering  for  a 
few  minutes,  half  hoping  that  he  might  receive  some  sort  of 
invitation  to  call  at  Mr.  Sabin's  temporary  abode.  Perhaps, 
under  the  circumstances,  it  was  scarcely  possible  that  any 
such  invitation  could  be  given,  although  had  it  been 
Wolfenden  would  certainly  have  accepted  it.  For  he  had 
no  idea  of  at  once  relinquishing  all  hope  as  regards  Helene. 
He  was  naturally  sanguine,  and  he  was  very  much  in  love. 
There  was  something  mysterious  about  that  other  engage- 
ment of  which  he  had  been  told.  He  had  an  idea  that, 

but  for  Mr.  Sabin's  unexpected  appearance,  Helene  would 

167 


^68  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

have  offered  him  a  larger  share  of  her  confidence.  He  was 
content  to  wait  for  it. 

Wolfenden  had  ridden  over  from  home,  and  left  his  horse 
in  the  hotel  stables.  As  he  passed  the  hall  a  familiar 
figure  standing  in  the  open  doorway  hailed  him.  He 
glanced  quickly  up,  and  stopped  short.  It  was  Harcutt 
who  was  standing  there,  in  a  Norfolk  tweed  suit  and  thick 
boots. 

"  Of  all  men  in  the  world  ! "  he  exclaimed  in  blank  sur- 
prise. "  What,  in  the  name  of  all  that's  wonderful,  are  you 
doing  here  ?  " 

Harcutt  answered  with  a  certain  doggedness,  almost  as 
though  he  resented  Wolfenden's  astonishment. 

"  I  don't  know  why  you  should  look  at  me  as  though  I 
were  a  ghost,"  he  said.  "  If  it  comes  to  that,  I  might  ask 
you  the  same  question.  What  are  you  doing  here  ?  " 

"  Oh !  I'm  at  home,"  Wolfenden  answered  promptly. 
"  I'm  down  to  visit  my  people ;  it's  only  a  mile  or  two  from 
here  to  Deringham  Hall." 

Harcutt  dropped  his  eyeglass  and  laughed  shortly. 

"  You  are  wonderfully  filial  all  of  a  sudden,"  he  remarked. 
"  Of  course  you  had  no  other  reason  for  coming  ! " 

"None  at  all,"  Wolfenden  answered  firmly.  "I  came 
because  I  was  sent  for.  It  was  a  complete  surprise  to  me 
to  meet  Mr.  Sabin  here — at  least  it  would  have  been  if  I 
had  not  travelled  down  with  his  niece.  Their  coming  was 
simply  a  stroke  of  luck  for  me." 

Harcutt  assumed  a  more  amiable  expression. 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,"  he  said.  "  I  thought  that  you 
were  stealing  a  march  on  me,  and  there  really  was  not  any 
necessity,  for  our  interests  do  not  clash  in  the  least.  It 
was  different  between  you  and  poor  old  Densham,  but  he's 
given  it  up  of  his  own  accord  and  he  sailed  for  India 
yesterday." 

"  Poor  old  chap ! "  Wolfenden  said  softly.     "  He  would 


HARCUTT'S  INSPIRATION  169 

not  tell  you,  I  suppose,  even  at  the  last,  what  it  was  that  he 
had  heard  about — these  people  ?  " 

"  He  would  not  tell  me,"  Harcutt  answered ;  "but  he  sent 
a  message  to  you.  He  wished  me  to  remind  you  that  you 
had  been  friends  for  fifteen  years,  and  he  was  not  likely 
to  deceive  you.  He  was  leaving  the  country,  he  said, 
because  he  had  certain  and  definite  information  concerning 
the  girl,  which  made  it  absolutely  hopeless  for  either  you 
or  he  to  think  of  her.  His  advice  to  you  was  to  do  the 
same." 

"  I  do  not  doubt  Densham,"  Wolfenden  said  slowly  ; 
"but  I  doubt  his  information.  It  came  from  a  woman 
who  has  been  Densham's  friend.  Then,  again,  what  may 
seem  an  insurmountable  obstacle  to  him,  may  not  be  so  to 
me.  Nothing  vague  in  the  shape  of  warnings  will  deter 
me." 

"  Well,"  Harcutt  said,  "  I  have  given  you  Densham's 
message  and  my  responsibility  concerning  it  is  ended.  As 
you  know,  my  own  interests  lie  in  a  different  direction. 
Now  I  want  a  few  minutes'  conversation  with  you.  The 
hotel  rooms  are  a  little  too  public.  Are  you  in  a  hurry,  or 
can  you  walk  up  and  down  the  drive  with  me  once  or 
twice  ?  " 

"  I  can  spare  half  an  hour  very  well,"  Wolfenden  said ; 
"but  I  should  prefer  to  do  no  more  walking  just  yet. 
Come  and  sit  down  here — it  isn't  cold." 

They  chose  a  seat  looking  over  the  sea.  Harcutt 
glanced  carefully  all  around.  There  was  no  possibility  of 
their  being  overheard,  nor  indeed  was  there  any  one  in 
sight. 

"  I  am  developing  fresh  instincts,"  Harcutt  said,  as  he 
crossed  his  legs  and  lit  a  cigarette.  "  I  am  here,  I  should 
like  you  to  understand,  purely  in  a  professional  capacity — 
and  I  want  your  help." 

"  But  my  dear  fellow,"  Wolfenden  said ;  "  I  don't  under- 


170  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

stand.  If,  when  you  say  professionally,  you  mean  as  a 
journalist,  why,  what  on  earth  in  this  place  can  there  be 
worth  the  chronicling  ?  There  is  scarcely  a  single  person 
known  to  society  in  the  neighbourhood." 

"  Mr.  Sabin  is  here  ! "  Harcutt  remarked  quietly. 

Wolfenden  looked  at  him  in  surprise. 

"That  might  have  accounted  for  your  presence  here  as  a 
private  individual,"  he  said;  "but  professionally,  how  on 
earth  can  he  interest  you  ?  " 

"  He  interests  me  professionally  very  much  indeed," 
Harcutt  answered. 

Wolfenden  was  getting  puzzled. 

"  Mr.  Sabin  interests  you  professionally  ?  "  he  repeated 
slowly.  "Then  you  have  learnt  something.  Mr.  Sabin 
has  an  identity  other  than  his  own." 

"I  suspect  him  to  be,"  Harcutt  said  slowly,  "a  most 
important  and  interesting  personage.  I  have  learnt  a  little 
concerning  him.  I  am  here  to  learn  more ;  I  am  con- 
vinced that  it  is  worth  while." 

"  Have  you  learnt  anything,"  Wolfenden  asked,  "  con- 
cerning his  niece  ?  " 

"  Absolutely  nothing,"  Harcutt  answered  decidedly.  "  I 
may  as  well  repeat  that  my  interest  is  in  the  man  alone.  I 
am  not  a  sentimental  person  at  all.  His  niece  is  perhaps 
the  most  beautiful  woman  I  have  ever  seen  in  my  life,  but 
it  is  with  no  thought  of  her  that  I  have  taken  up  this  inves- 
tigation. Having  assured  you  of  that,  I  want  to  know  if 
you  will  help  me  ?  " 

"  You  must  speak  a  little  more  plainly,"  Wolfenden  said ; 
"  you  are  altogether  too  vague.  What  help  do  you  want, 
and  for  what  purpose  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Sabin,"  Harcutt  said  ;  "  is  engaged  in  great  political 
schemes.  He  is  in  constant  and  anxious  communication 
with  the  ambassadors  of  two  great  Powers.  He  affects 
secrecy  in  all  his  movements,  and  the  name  by  which  he  is 


HARCUTT 'S  INSPIRATION  171 

known  is  without  doubt  an  assumed  one.  This  much  I 
have  learnt  for  certain.  My  own  ideas  are  too  vague  yet 
for  me  to  formulate.  I  cannot  say  any  more,  except  that  I 
believe  him  to  be  deep  in  some  design  which  is  certainly 
not  for  the  welfare  of  this  country.  It  is  my  assurance  of 
this  which  justifies  me  in  exercising  a  certain  espionage 
upon  his  movements — which  justifies  me  also,  Wolfenden, 
in  asking  for  your  assistance." 

"  My  position,"  Wolfenden  remarked,  "  becomes  a  little 
difficult  Whoever  this  man  Sabin  may  be,  nothing  would 
induce  me  to  believe  ill  of  his  niece.  I  could  take  no  part 
in  anything  likely  to  do  her  harm.  You  will  understand 
this  better,  Harcutt,  when  I  tell  you  that,  a  few  hours  ago,  I 
asked  her  to  be  my  wife." 

"  You  asked  her — what  ?  " 

"  To  be  my  wife." 

"  And  she  ?  " 

"  Refused  me  !  " 

Harcutt  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  in  blank  amaze- 
ment. 

"  Who  refused  you — Mr.  Sabin  or  his  niece  ?  " 

"  Both ! " 

"Did  she — did  Mr.  Sabin  know  your  position,  did  he 
understand  that  you  are  the  future  Earl  of  Deringham  ?  " 

"  Without  a  doubt,"  Wolfenden  answered  drily ;  "  in  fact 
Mr.  Sabin  seems  to  be  pretty  well  up  in  my  genealogy.  He 
had  met  my  father  once,  he  told  me." 

Harcutt,  with  the  natural  selfishness  of  a  man  engaged 
upon  his  favourite  pursuit,  quite  forgot  to  sympathise  with 
his  friend.  He  thought  only  of  the  bearing  of  this  strange 
happening  upon  his  quest. 

"  This,"  he  remarked,  "  disposes  once  and  for  all  of  the 
suggestion  that  these  people  are  ordinary  adventurers." 

"  If  any  one,"  Wolfenden  said,  "  was  ever  idiotic  enough 
to  entertain  the  possibility  of  such  a  thing.  I  may  add  that 


172  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

from  the  first  I  have  had  almost  to  thrust  my  acquaintance 
upon  them,  especially  so  far  as  Mr.  Sabin  is  concerned. 
He  has  never  asked  me  to  call  upon  them  here,  or  in 
London  ;  and  this  morning  when  he  found  me  with  his 
niece  he  was  quietly  but  furiously  angry." 

"  It  is  never  worth  while,"  Harcutt  said,  "  to  reject  a 
possibility  until  you  have  tested  and  proved  it.  What  you 
say,  however,  settles  this  one.  They  are  not  adventurers  in 
any  sense  of  the  word.  Now,  will  you  answer  me  a  few 
questions  ?  It  may  be  just  as  much  to  your  advantage  as 
to  mine  to  go  into  this  matter." 

Wolfenden  nodded. 

"  You  can  ask  the  questions,  at  any  rate,"  he  said ;  "  I 
will  answer  them  if  I  can." 

"The  young  lady — did  she  refuse  you  from  personal 
reasons  ?  A  man  can  always  tell,  you  know.  Hadn't  you 
the  impression,  from  her  answer,  that  it  was  more  the  force 
of  circumstances  than  any  objection  to  you  which  prompted 
her  negative?  I've  put  it  bluntly,  but  you  know  what  I 
mean." 

Wolfenden  did  not  answer  for  nearly  a  minute.  He  was 
gazing  steadily  seaward,  recalling  with  a  swift  effort  of  his 
imagination  every  word  which  had  passed  between  them — 
he  could  even  hear  her  voice,  and  see  her  face  with  the 
soft,  dark  eyes  so  close  to  his.  It  was  a  luxury  of  recol- 
lection. 

"  I  will  admit,"  he  said,  quietly,  "  that  what  you  suggest 
has  already  occurred  to  me.  If  it  had  not,  I  should  be 
much  more  unhappy  than  I  am  at  this  moment.  To  tell 
you  the  honest  truth  I  was  not  content  with  her  answer,  or 
rather  the  manner  of  it.  I  should  have  had  some  hope  of 
inducing  her  to,  at  any  rate,  modify  it,  but  for  Mr.  Sabin's 
unexpected  appearance.  About  him,  at  least,  there  was  no 
hesitation  ;  he  said  no,  and  he  meant  it." 

"  That  is  what  I  imagined  might  be  the  case,"  Harcutt 


HARCUTT'S  INSPIRATION  173 

said  thoughtfully.  "  I  don't  want  to  have  you  think  that  I 
imagine  any  disrespect  to  the  young  lady,  but  don't  you  see 
that  either  she  and  Mr.  Sabin  must  stand  towards  one 
another  in  an  equivocal  position,  or  else  they  must  be  in 
altogether  a  different  station  of  life  to  their  assumed  one, 
when  they  dismiss  the  subject  of  an  alliance  with  you  so 
peremptorily." 

Wolfenden  flushed  up  to  the  temples,  and  his  eyes  were 
lit  with  fire. 

"  You  may  dismiss  all  idea  of  the  former  possibility,"  he 
said,  with  ominous  quietness.  "  If  you  wish  me  to  discuss 
this  matter  with  you  further  you  will  be  particularly  careful 
to  avoid  the  faintest  allusion  to  it." 

"  I  have  never  seriously  entertained  it,"  Harcutt  assented 
cheerfully  ;  "  I,  too,  believe  in  the  girl.  She  looks  at  once 
too  proud  and  too  innocent  for  any  association  of  such 
thoughts  with  her.  She  has  the  bearing  and  the  manners 
of  a  queen.  Granted,  then,  that  we  dismiss  the  first  pos- 
sibility." 

"  Absolutely  and  for  ever,"  Wolfenden  said  firmly.  "  I 
may  add  that  Mr.  Sabin  met  me  with  a  distinct  reason 
for  his  refusal — he  informed  me  his  niece  was  already 
betrothed." 

"  That  may  or  may  not  be  true,"  Harcutt  said.  "  It 
does  not  affect  the  question  which  we  are  considering  at 
present.  We  must  come  to  the  conclusion  that  these  are 
people  of  considerable  importance.  That  is  what  I  honestly 
believe.  Now  what  do  you  suppose  brings  Mr.  Sabin  to 
such  an  out  of  the  way  hole  as  this  ?  " 

"The  golf,  very  likely,"  Wolfenden  said.  "He  is  a 
magnificent  player." 

Harcutt  frowned. 

"  If  I  thought  so,"  he  said,  "  I  should  consider  my 
journey  here  a  wasted  one.  But  I  can't.  He  is  in  the 
midst  of  delicate  and  important  negotiations — I  know  as 


174  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

much  as  that.  He  would  not  come  down  here  at  such  a 
time  to  play  golf.  It  is  an  absurd  idea ! " 

"  I  really  don't  see  how  else  you  can  explain  it,"  Wolf- 
enden  remarked ;  "  the  greatest  men  have  had  their  hobbies, 
you  know.  I  need  not  remind  you  of  Nero's  fiddle,  or 
Drake's  bowls." 

"Quite  unnecessary,"  Harcutt  declared  briskly.  "  Frankly, 
I  don't  believe  in  Mr.  Sabin's  golf.  There  is  somebody  or 
something  down  here  connected  with  his  schemes ;  the  golf 
is  a  subterfuge.  He  plays  well  because  he  does  everything 
well." 

"  It  will  tax  your  ingenuity,"  Wolfenden  said,  "  to  con- 
nect his  visit  here  with  anything  in  the  shape  of  political 
schemes." 

"  My  ingenuity  accepts  the  task,  at  any  rate,"  Harcutt 
said.  "I  am  going  to  find  out  all  about  it,  and  you  must 
help  me.  It  will  be  for  both  our  interests." 

"  I  am  afraid,"  Wolfenden  answered,  "  that  you  are  on  a 
wild  goose  chase.  Still  I  am  quite  willing  to  help  you  if 
I  can." 

"  Well,  to  begin  then,"  Harcutt  said ;  "  you  have  been 
with  him  some  time  to-day.  Did  he  ask  you  any  questions 
about  the  locality  ?  Did  he  show  any  curiosity  in  any  of 
the  residents  ?  " 

Wolfenden  shook  his  head. 

"  Absolutely  none,"  he  answered.  "  The  only  conversa- 
tion we  had,  in  which  he  showed  any  interest  at  all,  was 
concerning  my  own  people.  By  the  bye,  that  reminds  me ! 
I  told  him  of  an  incident  which  occurred  at  Deringham 
Hall  last  night,  and  he  was  certainly  interested  and  curious. 
I  chanced  to  look  at  him  at  an  unexpected  moment,  and 
his  appearance  astonished  me.  I  have  never  seen  him  look 
so  keen  about  anything  before." 

"  Will  you  tell  me  the  incident  at  once,  please  ?  "  Harcutt 
begged  eagerly.  "  It  may  contain  the  very  clue  for  which 


HARCUTT'S  INSPIRATION  175 

I  am  hunting.   Anything  which  interests  Mr.  Sabin  interests 
me." 

"  There  is  no  secrecy  about  the  matter,"  Wolfenden  said. 
"  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it.  You  may  perhaps  have  heard 
that  my  father  has  been  in  very  poor  health  ever  since  the 
great  Solent  disaster.  It  unfortunately  affected  his  brain  to 
a  certain  extent,  and  he  has  been  the  victim  of  delusions 
ever  since.  The  most  serious  of  these  is,  that  he  has  been 
commissioned  by  the  Government  to  prepare,  upon  a 
gigantic  scale,  a  plan  and  description  of  our  coast  defences 
and  navy.  He  has  a  secretary  and  typist,  and  works  ten 
hours  a  day ;  but  from  their  report  and  my  own  observa- 
tions I  am  afraid  the  only  result  is  an  absolutely  unintelligible 
chaos.  Still,  of  course,  we  have  to  take  him  seriously,  and 
be  thankful  that  it  is  no  worse.  Now  the  incident  which 
I  told  Mr.  Sabin  was  this.  Last  night  a  man  called  and 
introduced  himself  as  Dr.  Wilmot,  the  great  mind  specialist. 
He  represented  that  he  had  been  staying  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, and  was  on  friendly  terms  with  the  local  medico 
here,  Dr.  Whitlett.  My  father's  case  had  been  mentioned 
between  them,  and  he  had  become  much  interested  in  it. 
He  had  a  theory  of  his  own  for  the  investigation  of  such 
cases  which  consisted,  briefly  of  a  careful  scrutiny  of  any 
work  done  by  the  patient.  He  brought  a  letter  from  Dr. 
Whitlett  and  said  that  if  we  would  procure  him  a  sight  of 
my  father's  most  recent  manuscripts  he  would  give  us  an 
opinion  on  the  case.  We  never  had  the  slightest  suspicion 
as  to  the  truth  of  his  statements,  and  I  took  him  with  me 
to  the  Admiral's  study.  However,  while  we  were  there, 
and  he  was  rattling  through  the  manuscripts,  up  comes  Dr. 
Whitlett,  the  local  man,  in  hot  haste.  The  letter  was  a 
forgery,  and  the  man  an  impostor.  He  escaped  through 
the  window,  and  got  clean  away.  That  is  the  story 
just  as  I  told  it  to  Mr.  Sabin.  What  do  you  make 
of  it?" 


176  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

Harcutt  stood  up,  and  laid  his  hand  upon  the  other's 
shoulder. 

"  Well,  I've  got  my  clue,  that's  all,"  he  declared ;  "  the 
thing's  as  plain  as  sunlight ! " 

Wolfenden  rose  also  to  his  feet. 

"  I  must  be  a  fool,"  he  said,  "  for  I  certainly  can't  see 
it." 

Harcutt  lowered  his  tone. 

"  Look  here,  Wolfenden,"  he  said,  "  I  have  no  doubt 
that  you  are  right,  and  that  your  father's  work  is  of  no 
value ;  but  you  may  be  very  sure  of  one  thing — Mr.  Sabin 
does  not  think  so ! " 

"  I  don't  see  what  Mr.  Sabin  has  got  to  do  with  it," 
Wolfenden  said. 

Harcutt  laughed. 

"Well,  I  will  tell  you  one  thing,"  he  said;  '  it  is  the  con- 
tents of  your  father's  study  which  has  brought  Mr.  Sabin  to 
Deringham  I " 


CHAPTER  XXII 

FROM   THE   BEGINNING 

A  WOMAN  stood,  in  the  midst  of  a  salt  wilderness,  gazing 
seaward.  Around  her  was  a  long  stretch  of  wet  sand  and 
of  seaweed-stained  rocks,  rising  from  little  pools  of  water 
left  by  the  tide ;  and  beyond,  the  flat,  marshy  country  was 
broken  only  by  that  line  of  low  cliffs,  from  which  the  little 
tufts  of  grass  sprouted  feebly.  The  waves  which  rolled 
almost  to  her  feet  were  barely  ripples,  breaking  with 
scarcely  a  visible  effort  upon  the  moist  sand.  Above,  the  sky 
was  grey  and  threatening;  only  a  few  minutes  before  a 
cloud  of  white  mist  had  drifted  in  from  the  sea  and  settled 
softly  upon  the  land  in  the  form  of  rain.  The  whole  out- 
look was  typical  of  intense  desolation.  The  only  sound 
breaking  the  silence,  almost  curiously  devoid  of  all  physical 
and  animal  noises,  was  the  soft  washing  of  the  sand  at  her 
feet,  and  every  now  and  then  the  jingling  of  silver  harness, 
as  the  horses  of  her  carriage,  drawn  up  on  the  road  above, 
tossed  their  heads  and  fidgeted.  The  carriage  itself  seemed 
grotesquely  out  of  place.  The  coachman,  with  powdered 
hair  and  the  dark  blue  Deringham  livery,  sat  perfectly 
motionless,  his  head  bent  a  little  forward,  and  his  eyes 
fixed  upon  his  horses'  ears.  The  footman,  by  their  side, 
stood  with  folded  arms,  and  expression  as  wooden  as 
though  he  were  waiting  upon  a  Bond  Street  pavement. 
Both  were  weary,  and  both  would  have  liked  to  vary  the 
monotony  by  a  little  conversation ;  but  only  a  few  yards 

12  *77 


178  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIM 

away  the  woman  was   standing  whose   curious   taste  had 
led  her  to  visit  such  a  spot. 

Her  arms  were  hanging  listlessly  by  her  side,  her  whole 
expression,  although  her  face  was  upturned  towards  the 
sky,  was  one  of  intense  dejection.  Something  about  her 
attitude  bespoke  a  keen  and  intimate  sympathy  with  the 
desolation  of  her  surroundings.  The  woman  was  unhappy  ; 
the  light  in  her  dark  eyes  was  inimitably  sad.  Her  cheeks 
were  pale  and  a  little  wan.  Yet  Lady  Deringham  was  very 
handsome — as  handsome  as  a  woman  approaching  middle 
age  could  hope  to  be.  Her  figure  was  still  slim  and 
elegant,  the  streaks  of  grey  in  her  raven  black  hair  were  few 
and  far  between.  She  might  have  lived  hand  in  hand  with 
sorrow,  but  it  had  done  very  little  to  age  her.  Only  a  few 
years  ago,  in  the  crowded  ball-room  of  a  palace,  a  prince 
had  declared  her  to  be  the  handsomest  woman  of  her  age, 
and  the  prince  had  the  reputation  of  knowing.  It  was  easy 
to  believe  it. 

How  long  the  woman  might  have  lingered  there  it  is 
hard  to  say,  for  evidently  the  spot  possessed  a  peculiar 
fascination  for  her,  and  she  had  given  herself  up  to  a  rare 
fit  of  abstraction.  But  some  sound — was  it  the  low  wailing 
of  that  seagull,  or  the  more  distant  cry  of  a  hawk,  motionless 
in  mid-air  and  scarcely  visible  against  the  cloudy  sky,  which 
caused  her  to  turn  her  head  inland  ?  And  then  she  saw  that 
the  solitude  was  no  longer  unbroken.  A  dark  object  had 
rounded  the  sandy  little  headland,  and  was  coming  steadily 
towards  her.  She  looked  at  it  with  a  momentary  interest, 
her  skirt  raised  in  her  hand,  already  a  few  steps  back  on 
her  return  to  the  waiting  carriage.  Was  it  a  man  ?  It  was 
something  human,  at  any  rate,  although  its  progression  was 
slow  and  ungraceful,  and  marked  with  a  peculiar  but 
uniform  action.  She  stood  perfectly  still,  a  motionless 
figure  against  the  background  of  wan,  cloud-shadowed  sea 
and  gathering  twilight,  her  eyes  riveted  upon  this  strange 


FROM  THE  BEGINNING  179 

thing,  her  lips  slightly  parted,  her  cheeks  as  pale  as  death. 
Gradually  it  came  nearer  and  nearer.  Her  skirt  dropped 
from  her  nerveless  fingers,  her  eyes,  a  moment  before  dull, 
with  an  infinite  and  pitiful  emptiness,  were  lit  now  with  a 
new  light.  She  was  not  alone,  nor  was  she  unprotected, 
yet  the  woman  was  suffering  from  a  spasm  of  terror — one 
could  scarcely  imagine  any  sight  revolting  enough  to  call 
up  that  expression  of  acute  and  trembling  fear,  which  had 
suddenly  transformed  her  appearance.  It  was  as  though 
the  level  sands  had  yielded  up  their  dead — the  shipwrecked 
mariners  of  generations,  and  they  all,  with  white,  sad  faces 
and  wailing  voices,  were  closing  in  around  her.  Yet  it  was 
hard  to  account  for  a  terror  so  abject.  There  was  certainly 
nothing  in  the  figure,  now  close  at  hand,  which  seemed 
capable  of  inspiring  it. 

It  was  a  man  with  a  club  foot — nothing  more  nor  less. 
In  fact  it  was  Mr.  Sabin  !  There  was  nothing  about  his 
appearance,  save  that  ungainly  movement  caused  by  his 
deformity,  in  any  way  singular  or  threatening.  He  came 
steadily  nearer,  and  the  woman  who  awaited  him  trembled. 
Perhaps  his  expression  was  a  trifle  sardonic,  owing  chiefly 
to  the  extreme  pallor  of  his  skin,  and  the  black  flannel 
clothes  with  invisible  stripe,  which  he  had  been  wearing  for 
golf.  Yet  when  he  lifted  his  soft  felt  hat  from  his  head 
and  bowed  with  an  ease  and  effect  palpably  acquired  in 
other  countries,  his  appearance  was  far  from  unpleasant. 
He  stood  there  bare-headed  in  the  twilight,  a  strangely 
winning  smile  upon  his  dark  face,  and  his  head  courteously 
bent. 

"  The  most  delightful  of  unexpected  meetings,"  he  mur- 
mured. "  I  am  afraid  that  I  have  come  upon  you  like  an 
apparition,  dear  Lady  Deringham  !  I  must  have  startled 
you  !  Yes,  I  can  see  by  your  face  that  I  did ;  I  am  so  sorry. 
Doubtless  you  did  not  know  until  yesterday  that  I  was  in 
England." 


i8o  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

Lady  Deringham  was  slowly  recovering  herself.  She  was 
white  still,  even  to  the  lips,  and  there  was  a  strange,  sick 
pain  at  her  heart.  Yet  she  answered  him  with  something 
of  her  usual  deliberateness,  conscious  perhaps  that  her 
servants,  although  their  heads  were  studiously  averted,  had 
yet  witnessed  with  surprise  this  unexpected  meeting. 

"  You  certainly  startled  me,"  she  said  ;  "  I  had  imagined 
that  this  was  the  most  desolate  part  of  all  unfrequented 
spots !  It  is  here  I  come  when  I  want  to  feel  absolutely 
alone.  I  did  not  dream  of  meeting  another  fellow  creature 
— least  of  all  people  in  the  world,  perhaps,  you  ! " 

"I,"  he  answered,  smiling  gently,  "was  perhaps  the 
better  prepared.  A  few  minutes  ago,  from  the  cliffs  yonder, 
I  saw  your  carriage  drawn  up  here,  and  I  saw  you  alight. 
I  wanted  to  speak  with  you,  so  I  lost  no  time  in  scrambling 
down  on  to  the  sands.  You  have  changed  marvellously 
little,  Lady  Deringham  !  " 

"  And  you,"  she  said,  "  only  in  name.  You  are  the  Mr. 
Sabin  with  whom  my  son  was  playing  golf  yesterday 
morning  ?  " 

"  I  am  Mr.  Sabin,"  he  answered.  "  Your  son  did  me  a 
good  service  a  week  or  two  back.  He  is  a  very  fine  young 
fellow ;  I  congratulate  you." 

"  And  your  niece,"  Lady  Deringham  asked ;  "  who  is 
she  ?  My  son  spoke  to  me  of  her  last  night." 

Mr.  Sabin  smiled  faintly. 

"Ah!  Madame,"  he  said,  "there  have  been  so  many 
people  lately  who  have  been  asking  me  that  question,  yet 
to  you  as  to  them  I  must  return  the  same  answer.  She  is 
my  niece ! " 

"You  call  her?" 

"  She  shares  my  name  at  present" 

"  Is  she  your  daughter  ?  " 

He  shook  his  head  sadly. 

"  I  have  never  been  married,"  he  said,  with  an  indefinable 


FROM  THE  BEGINNING  181 

mournfulness  in  his  flexible  tones.  "I  have  had  neither 
wife,  nor  child,  nor  friend.  It  is  well  for  me  that  I  have 
not ! " 

She  looked  down  at  his  deformity,  and  woman-like  she 
shivered. 

"  It  is  no  better,  then  ?  "  she  murmured,  with  eyes  turned 
seaward. 

"  It  is  absolutely  incurable,"  he  declared. 

She  changed  the  subject  abruptly. 

"  The  last  I  heard  of  you,"  she  said,  "  was  that  you  were 
in  China.  You  were  planning  great  things  there.  In  ten 
years,  I  was  told,  Europe  was  to  be  at  your  mercy  !  " 

"  I  left  Pekin  five  years  ago,"  he  said.  "  China  is  a  land 
of  Cabals.  She  may  yet  be  the  greatest  country  in  the 
world.  I,  for  one,  believe  in  her  destiny,  but  it  will  be  in  the 
generations  to  come.  I  have  no  patience  to  labour  for 
another  to  reap  the  harvest.  Then,  too,  a  craving  for  just 
one  draught  of  civilisation  brought  me  westward  again. 
Mongolian  habits  are  interesting  but  a  little  trying." 

"And  what,"  she  asked,  looking  at  him  steadily,  "has 
brought  you  to  Deringham,  of  all  places  upon  this  earth  ?  " 

He  smiled,  and  with  his  stick  traced  a  quaint  pattern  in 
the  sand. 

"  I  have  never  told  you  anything  that  was  not  the  truth," 
he  said ;  "  I  will  not  begin  now.  I  might  have  told  you 
that  I  was  here  by  chance,  for  change  of  air,  or  for  the  golf. 
Neither  of  these  things  would  have  been  true.  I  am  here 
because  Deringham  village  is  only  a  mile  or  two  from 
Deringham  Hall." 

She  drew  a  little  closer  to  him.  The  jingling  of  harness, 
as  her  horses  tossed  their  heads  impatiently,  reminded  her 
of  the  close  proximity  of  the  servants. 

"  What  do  you  want  of  me  ?  "  she  asked  hoarsely. 

He  looked  at  her  in  mild  reproach,  a  good-humoured 
smile  at  the  corner  of  his  lips;  yet  after  all  was  it  good 


l82  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

humour  or  some  curious  outward  reflection  of  the  working 
of  his  secret  thoughts?  When  he  spoke  the  reproach,  at 
any  rate,  was  manifest 

"  Want  of  you  !  You  talk  as  though  I  were  a  black- 
mailer, or  something  equally  obnoxious.  Is  that  quite  fair, 
Constance  ?  " 

She  evaded  the  reproach  ;  perhaps  she  was  not  conscious 
of  it.  It  was  the  truth  she  wanted. 

"You  had  some  end  in  coming  here,"  she  persisted. 
"  What  is  it  ?  I  cannot  conceive  anything  in  the  world  you 
have  to  gain  by  coming  to  see  me.  We  have  left  the  world 
and  society  ;  we  live  buried.  Whatever  fresh  schemes  you 
may  be  planning,  there  is  no  way  in  which  we  could  help 
you.  You  are  richer,  stronger,  more  powerful  than  we.  I 
can  think,"  she  added,  "  of  only  one  thing  which  may  have 
brought  you." 

"  And  that  ?  "  he  asked  deliberately. 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  certain  tremulous  wistfulness  in 
her  eyes,  and  with  softening  face. 

"  It  may  be,"  she  said,  "  that  as  you  grow  older  you  have 
grown  kinder ;  you  may  have  thought  of  my  great  desire, 
and  you  were  always  generous,  Victor,  you  may  have  come 
to  grant  it !  " 

The  slightest  possible  change  passed  over  his  face  as  his 
Christian  name  slipped  from  her  lips.  The  firm  lines 
about  his  mouth  certainly  relaxed,  his  dark  eyes  gleamed 
for  a  moment  with  a  kindlier  light.  Perhaps  at  that 
minute  for  both  of  them  came  a  sudden  lifting  of  the 
curtain,  a  lingering  backward  glance  into  the  world  of 
their  youth,  passionate,  beautiful,  seductive.  There  were 
memories  there  which  still  seemed  set  to  music — memories 
which  pierced  even  the  armour  of  his  equanimity.  Her 
eyes  filled  with  tears  as  she  looked  at  him.  With  a  quick 
gesture  she  laid  her  hand  upon  his. 

"  Believe  me,  Victor,"  she  said,  "  I  have  always  thought 


FROM  THE  BEGINNING  183 

of  you  kindly ;  you  have  suffered  terribly  for  my  sake,  and 
your  silence  was  magnificent.  I  have  never  forgotten  it." 

His  face  clouded  over,  her  impulsive  words  had  been 
after  all  ill  chosen,  she  had  touched  a  sore  point !  There 
was  something  in  these  memories  distasteful  to  him.  They 
recalled  the  one  time  in  his  life  when  he  had  been  worsted 
by  another  man.  His  cynicism  returned. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  he  said,  "  that  the  years,  which  have  made 
so  little  change  in  your  appearance,  have  made  you  a  senti- 
mentalist. I  can  assure  you  that  these  old  memories  seldom 
trouble  me." 

Then  with  a  lightning-like  intuition,  almost  akin  to 
inspiration,  he  saw  that  he  had  made  a  mistake.  His  best 
hold  upon  the  woman  had  been  through  that  mixture  of 
sentiment  and  pity,  which  something  in  their  conversation 
had  reawakened  in  her.  He  was  destroying  it  ruthlessly 
and  of  his  own  accord.  What  folly ! 

"  Bah !  I  am  lying,"  he  said  softly ;  "  why  should  I  ? 
Between  you  and  me,  Constance,  there  should  be  nothing 
but  truth.  We  at  least  should  be  sincere  one  to  the  other. 
You  are  right,  I  have  brought  you  something  which  should 
have  been  yours  long  ago." 

She  looked  at  him  with  wondering  eyes. 

"  You  are  going  to  give  me  the  letters  ?  " 

"  I  am  going  to  give  them  to  you,"  he  said.  "  With  the 
destruction  of  this  little  packet  falls  away  the  last  link  which 
held  us  together." 

He  had  taken  a  little  bundle  of  letters,  tied  with  a  faded 
ribbon,  from  his  pocket  and  held  them  out  to  her.  Even 
in  that  salt-odorous  air  the  perfume  of  strange  scents 
seemed  to  creep  out  from  those  closely  written  sheets  as 
they  fluttered  in  the  breeze.  Lady  Deringham  clasped  the 
packet  with  both  hands,  and  her  eyes  were  very  bright  and 
very  soft. 

"It  is  not  so,   Victor,"   she  murmured.     "There  is  a 


184  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

new  and  a  stronger  link  between  us  now,  the  link  of  my 
everlasting  gratitude.  Ah  !  you  were  always  generous, 
always  quixotic !  Someday  I  felt  sure  that  you  would  do 
this." 

"  When  I  left  Europe,"  he  said,  "  you  would  have  had 
them,  but  there  was  no  trusted  messenger  whom  I  could 
spare.  Yet  if  I  had  never  returned  they  were  so  bestowed 
that  they  would  have  come  into  your  hands  with  perfect 
safety.  Even  now,  Constance,  will  you  think  me  very 
weak  when  I  say  that  I  part  with  them  with  regret  ?  They 
have  been  with  me  through  many  dangers  and  many  strange 
happenings." 

"  You  are,"  she  whispered,  "  the  old  Victor  again ! 
Thank  God  that  I  have  had  this  one  glimpse  of  you  !  I 
am  ashamed  to  think  how  terrified  I  have  been." 

She  held  out  her  hand  impulsively.  He  took  it  in  his 
and,  with  a  glance  at  her  servants,  let  it  fall  almost  im- 
mediately. 

"  Constance,"  he  said,  "  I  am  going  away  now.  I  have 
accomplished  what  I  came  for.  But  first,  would  you  care 
to  do  me  a  small  service  ?  It  is  only  a  trifle." 

A  thrill  of  the  old  mistrustful  fear  shook  her  heart.  Half 
ashamed  of  herself  she  stifled  it  at  once,  and  strove  to 
answer  him  calmly. 

"  If  there  is  anything  within  my  power  which  I  can  do 
for  you,  Victor,"  she  said,  "it  will  make  me  very  happy. 

You  would  not  ask  me,  I  know,  unless — unless " 

"You  need  have  no  fear,"  he  interrupted  calmly;  "it  is 
a  very  little  thing.     Do  you  think  that  Lord  Deringham 
would  know  me  again  after  so  many  years  ?  " 
"  My  husband  ?  " 
"Yes!" 

She  looked  at  him  in  something  like  amazement.  Before 
she  could  ask  the  question  which  was  framing  itself  upon 
her  lips,  however,  they  were  both  aware  of  a  distant  sound, 


FROM  THE  BEGINNING  185 

rapidly  drawing  nearer — the  thunder  of  a  horse's  hoofs  upon 
the  soft  sand.  Looking  up  they  both  recognised  the  rider 
at  the  same  instant. 

"  It  is  your  son,"  Mr.  Sabin  said  quickly ;  "  you  need  not 
mind.  Leave  me  to  explain.  Tell  me  when  I  can  find 
you  at  home  alone  ?  " 

"I  am  always  alone,"  she  answered.  "But  come  to- 
morrow." 


CHAPTER    XXIII 

MR.     SABIN     EXPLAINS 

MR.  SABIN  and  his  niece  had  finished  their  dinner,  and 
were  lingering  a  little  over  an  unusually  luxurious  dessert. 
Wolfenden  had  sent  some  muscatel  grapes  and  peaches 
from  the  forcing  houses  at  Deringham  Hall — such  peaches 
as  Covent  Garden  could  scarcely  match,  and  certainly  not 
excel.  Mr.  Sabin  looked  across  at  Helene  as  they  were 
placed  upon  the  table,  with  a  significant  smile. 

"An  Englishman,"  he  remarked,  pouring  himself  out  a 
glass  of  burgundy  and  drawing  the  cigarettes  towards  him, 
"  never  knows  when  he  is  beaten.  As  a  national  trait  it  is 
magnificent,  in  private  life  it  is  a  little  awkward." 

Helene  had  been  sitting  through  the  meal,  still  and 
statuesque  in  her  black  dinner  gown,  a  little  more  pale 
than  usual,  and  very  silent.  At  Mr.  Sabin's  remark  she 
looked  up  quickly. 

"  Are  you  alluding  to  Lord  Wolfenden  ?  "  she  asked. 

Mr.  Sabin  lit  his  cigarette,  and  nodded  through  the  mist 
of  blue  smoke. 

"  To  no  less  a  person,"  he  answered,  with  a  shade  of 
mockery  in  his  tone.  "I  am  beginning  to  find  my 
guardianship  no  sinecure  after  all !  Do  you  know,  it  never 
occurred  to  me,  when  we  concluded  our  little  arrangement, 
that  I  might  have  to  exercise  my  authority  against  so 

ardent  a  suitor.      You  would  have  found  his  lordship  hard 

186 


MR.  SABIN  EXPLAINS  187 

to  get  rid  of  this  morning,  I  am  afraid,  but  for  my 
opportune  arrival." 

"  By  no  means,"  she  answered.  "  Lord  Wolfenden  is  a 
gentleman,  and  he  was  not  more  persistent  than  he  had  a 
right  to  be." 

"  Perhaps,"  Mr.  Sabin  remarked,  "  you  would  have  been 
better  pleased  if  I  had  not  come  ?  " 

"I  am  quite  sure  of  it,"  she  admitted ;  "  but  then  it  is  so 
like  you  to  arrive  just  at  a  crisis !  Do  you  know,  I  can't 
help  fancying  that  there  is  something  theatrical  about  your 
comings  and  goings!  You  appear — and  one  looks  for  a 
curtain  and  a  tableau.  Where  could  you  have  dropped 
from  this  morning  ?  " 

"From  Cromer,  in  a  donkey-cart,"  he  answered 
smiling.  "  I  got  as  far  as  Peterborough  last  night,  and 
came  on  here  by  the  first  train.  There  was  nothing  very 
melodramatic  about  that,  surely  ! " 

"  It  does  not  sound  so,  certainly.  Your  playing  golf  with 
Lord  Wolfenden  afterwards  was  commonplace  enough  ! " 

"  I  found  Lord  Wolfenden  very  interesting,"  Mr.  Sabin 
said  thoughtfully.  "He  told  me  a  good  deal  which  was 
important  for  me  to  know.  I  am  hoping  that  to-night  he 
will  tell  me  more." 

"To-night!     Is  he  coming  here?" 

Mr.  Sabin  assented  calmly. 

"Yes.  I  thought  you  would  be  surprised.  But  then 
you  need  not  see  him,  you  know.  I  met  him  riding  upon 
the  sands  this  afternoon — at  rather  an  awkward  moment, 
by  the  bye — and  asked  him  to  dine  with  us." 

"  He  refused,  of  course  ?  " 

"  Only  the  dinner  ;  presumably  he  doubted  our  cook,  for 
he  asked  to  be  allowed  to  come  down  afterwards.  He  will 
be  here  soon." 

"Why  did  you  ask  him?" 

Mr.    Sabin    looked    keenly    across    the    table.      There 


i88  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

was  something  in  the  girl's  face  which  he  scarcely  under- 
stood. 

"Well,  not  altogether  for  the  sake  of  his  company,  I 
must  confess,"  he  replied.  "He  has  been  useful  to  me, 
and  he  is  in  the  position  to  be  a  great  deal  more  so." 

The  girl  rose  up.  She  came  over  and  stood  before  him. 
Mr.  Sabin  knew  at  once  that  something  unusual  was  going 
to  happen. 

"  You  want  to  make  of  him,"  she  said,  in  a  low,  intense 
tone,  "  what  you  make  of  every  one — a  tool !  Understand 
that  I  will  not  have  it ! " 

"  Helene ! " 

The  single  word,  and  the  glance  which  flashed  from  his 
eyes,  was  expressive,  but  the  girl  did  not  falter. 

"  Oh !  I  am  weary  of  it,"  she  cried,  with  a  little 
passionate  outburst.  "  I  am  sick  to  death  of  it  all !  You 
will  never  succeed  in  what  you  are  planning.  One  might 
sooner  expect  a  miracle.  I  shall  go  back  to  Vienna.  I 
am  tired  of  masquerading.  I  have  had  more  than  enough 
of  it." 

Mr.  Sabin's  expression  did  not  alter  one  iota ;  he  spoke 
as  soothingly  as  one  would  speak  to  a  child. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  he  said  quietly,  "  that  it  must  be  dull  for 
you.  Perhaps  I  ought  to  have  taken  you  more  into  my 
confidence ;  very  well,  I  will  do  so  now.  Listen  :  you  say 
that  I  shall  never  succeed.  On  the  contrary,  I  am  on  the 
point  of  success;  the  waiting  for  both  of  us  is  nearly 
over." 

The  prospect  startled,  but  did  not  seem  altogether  to 
enrapture  her.  She  wanted  to  hear  more. 

"I  received  this  dispatch  from  London  this  morning," 
he  said.  "Baron  Knigenstein  has  left  for  Berlin  to  gain 
the  Emperor's  consent  to  an  agreement  which  we  have 
already  ratified.  The  affair  is  as  good  as  settled ;  it  is  a 
matter  now  of  a  few  days  only." 


MR.  SABIN  EXPLAINS  189 

"  Germany ! "  she  exclaimed,  incredulously,  "  I  thought 
it  was  to  be  Russia." 

"  So,"  he  answered,  "  did  I.  I  have  to  make  a  certain 
rather  humiliating  confession.  I,  who  have  always  con- 
sidered myself  keenly  in  touch  with  the  times,  especially 
since  rny  interest  in  European  matters  revived,  have 
remained  wholly  ignorant  of  one  of  the  most  extraordinary 
phases  of  modern  politics.  In  years  to  come  history  will 
show  us  that  it  was  inevitable,  but  I  must  confess  that  it 
has  come  upon  me  like  a  thunder  clap.  I,  like  all  the 
world,  have  looked  upon  Germany  and  England  as  natural 
and  inevitable  allies.  That  is  neither  more  nor  less  than  a 
colossal  blunder  !  As  a  matter  of  fact,  they  are  natural 
enemies  !" 

She  sank  into  a  chair,  and  looked  at  him  blankly. 

"  But  it  is  impossible,"  she  cried.  "There  are  all  the  ties 
of  relationship,  and  a  common  stock.  They  are  sister 
countries." 

"  Don't  you  know,"  he  said,  "  that  it  is  the  like  which 
irritates  and  repels  the  like.  It  is  this  relationship  which 
has  been  at  the  root  of  the  great  jealousy,  which  seems  to 
have  spread  all  through  Germany.  I  need  not  go  into  all 
the  causes  of  it  with  you  now ;  sufficient  it  is  to  say  that  all 
the  recent  successes  of  England  have  been  at  Germany's 
expense.  There  has  been  a  storm  brewing  for  long ;  to- 
day, to-morrow,  in  a  week,  surely  within  a  month,  it  will 
break." 

"You  may  be  right,"  she  said;  "but  who  of  all  the 
Frenchwomen  I  know  would  care  to  reckon  themselves  the 
debtors  of  Germany  ?  " 

"  You  will  owe  Germany  nothing,  for  she  will  be  paid  and 
overpaid  for  all  she  does.  Russia  has  made  terms  with  the 
Republic  of  France.  Politically,  she  has  nothing  to  gain 
by  a  rupture ;  but  with  Germany  it  is  different.  She  and 
France  are  ready  at  this  moment  to  fly  at  one  another's 


IQO  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

throats.  The  military  popularity  of  such  a  war  would  be 
immense.  The  cry  to  arms  would  ring  from  the 
Mediterranean  to  the  Rhine." 

"  Oh  !  I  hope  that  it  may  not  be  war,"  she  said.  "  I  had 
hoped  always  that  diplomacy,  backed  by  a  waiting  army, 
would  be  sufficient.  France  at  heart  is  true,  I  know.  But 
after  all,  it  sounds  like  a  fairy  tale.  You  are  a  wonderful 
man,  but  how  can  you  hope  to  move  nations  ?  What  can 
you  offer  Germany  to  exact  so  tremendous  a  price  ?  " 

"  I  can  offer,"  Mr.  Sabin  said  calmly,  "  what  Germany 
desires  more  than  anything  else  in  the  world — the  key  to 
England.  It  has  taken  me  six  years  to  perfect  my  schemes. 
As  you  know,  I  was  in  America  part  of  the  time  I  was 
supposed  to  be  in  China.  It  was  there,  in  the  laboratory  of 
Allison,  that  I  commenced  the  work.  Step  by  step  I  have 
moved  on — link  by  link  I  have  forged  the  chain.  I  may 
say,  without  falsehood  or  exaggeration,  that  my  work  would 
be  the  work  of  another  man's  lifetime.  With  me  it  has 
been  a  labour  of  love.  Your  part,  my  dear  Helene,  will 
be  a  glorious  one;  think  of  it,  and  shake  off  your 
depression.  This  hole  and  corner  life  is  not  for  long — the 
time  for  which  we  have  worked  is  at  hand." 

She  did  not  look  up,  there  was  no  answering  fire  of 
enthusiasm  in  her  dark  eyes.  The  colour  came  into  her 
cheeks  and  faded  away.  Mr.  Sabin  was  vaguely  disturbed. 

"  In  what  way,"  she  said,  without  directly  looking  at  him, 
"  is  Lord  Wolfenden  likely  to  be  useful  to  you  ?  " 

Mr.  Sabin  did  not  reply  for  some  time,  in  fact  he  did  not 
reply  at  all.  This  new  phrase  in  the  situation  was  suddenly 
revealed  to  him.  When  he  spoke  his  tone  was  grave 
enough — grave  with  an  undertone  of  contempt. 

"  Is  it  possible,  Helene,"  he  said,  "  that  you  have  allowed 
yourself  to  think  seriously  of  the  love-making  of  this  young 
man  ?  I  must  confess  that  such  a  thing  in  connection  with 
you  would  never  have  occurred  to  me  in  my  wildest  dreams !" 


MR.  SABIN  EXPLAINS  191 

"  I  am  the  mistress  of  my  own  affections,"  she  said 
coldly.  "  I  am  not  pledged  to  you  in  any  way.  If  I  were 
to  say  that  I  intended  to  listen  seriously  to  Lord 
Wolfenden — even  if  I  were  to  say  that  I  intended  to  marry 
him — well,  there  is  no  one  who  would  dare  to  interfere  ! 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  I  have  refused  him.  That  should 
be  enough  for  you.  I  am  not  going  to  discuss  the  matter 
at  all ;  you  would  not  understand  it." 

"  I  must  admit,"  Mr.  Sabin  said,  "  that  I  probably  should 
not.  Of  love,  as  you  young  people  conceive  it,  I  know 
nothing.  But  of  that  greater  affection — the  passionate 
love  of  a  man  for  his  race  and  his  kind  and  his  country — 
well,  that  has  always  seemed  to  me  a  thing  worth  living 
and  working  and  dying  for !  I  had  fancied,  Helene,  that 
some  spark  of  that  same  fire  had  warmed  your  blood,  or 
you  would  not  be  here  to-day." 

"  I  think,"  she  answered  more  gently,  u  that  it  has.  I 
too,  believe  me,  love  my  country  and  my  people  and  my 
order.  If  I  do  not  find  these  all-engrossing,  you  must 
remember  that  I  am  a  woman,  and  I  am  young ;  I  do  not 
pretend  to  be  capable  only  of  impersonal  and  patriotic 
love." 

"  Ay,  you  are  a  woman,  and  the  blood  of  some  of  your 
ancestors  will  make  itself  felt,"  he  added,  looking  at  her 
thoughtfully.  "  I  ought  to  have  considered  the  influence 
of  sex  and  heredity.  By  the  bye,  have  you  heard  from 
Henri  lately  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head. 

"Not  since  he  has  been  in  France.  We  thought  that 
whilst  he  was  there  it  would  be  better  for  him  not  to 
write." 

Mr.  Sabin  nodded. 

"  Most  discreet,"  he  remarked  satirically.  "  I  wonder 
what  Henri  would  say  if  he  knew?" 

The  girl's  lip  curled  a  little. 


192  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"  If  even,"  she  said,  "  there  was  really  something  serious 
for  him  to  know,  Henri  would  survive  it.  His  is  not  the 
temperament  for  sorrow.  For  twenty  minutes  he  would  be 
in  a  paroxysm.  He  would  probably  send  out  for  poison, 
which  he  would  be  careful  not  to  take ;  and  play  with  a 
pistol,  if  he  were  sure  that  it  was  not  loaded.  By  dinner 
time  he  would  be  calm,  the  opera  would  soothe  him  still 
more,  and  by  the  time  it  was  over  he  would  be  quite  ready 
to  take  Mademoiselle  Somebody  out  to  supper.  With  the 
first  glass  of  champagne  his  sorrow  would  be  drowned 
for  ever.  If  any  wound  remained  at  all,  it  would  be  the 
wound  to  his  vanity." 

"  You  have  considered,  then,  the  possibility  of  upsetting 
my  schemes  and  withdrawing  your  part  ?  "  Mr.  Sabin  said 
quietly.  "  You  understand  that  your  marriage  with  Henri 
would  be  an  absolute  necessity — that  without  it  all  would 
be  chaos?" 

"I  do  not  say  that  I  have  considered  any  such 
possibility,"  she  answered.  "  If  I  make  up  my  mind  to 
withdraw,  I  shall  give  you  notice.  But  I  will  admit  that  I 
like  Lord  Wolfenden,  and  I  detest  Henri !  Ah  !  I  know  of 
what  you  would  remind  me ;  you  need  not  fear,  I  shall  not 
forget !  It  will  not  be  to-day,  nor  to-morrow,  that  I  shall 
decide." 

A  servant  entered  the  room  and  announced  Lord 
Wolfenden.  Mr.  Sabin  looked  up. 

"  Where  have  you  shown  him  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Into  the  library,  sir,"  the  girl  answered. 

Mr.  Sabin  swore  softly  between  his  teeth,  and  sprang  to 
his  feet. 

"  Excuse  me,  Helene,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  will  bring  Lord 
Wolfenden  into  the  drawing-room.  That  girl  is  an  idiot ; 
she  has  shown  him  into  the  one  room  in  the  house  which  I 
would  not  have  had  him  enter  for  anything  in  the  world  ! " 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE   WAY  OF  THE  WOMAN 

WOLFENDEN  had  been  shown,  as  he  supposed,  into  an 
empty  room  by  the  servant  of  whom  he  had  inquired  for 
Mr.  Sabin.  But  the  door  was  scarcely  closed  before  a 
familar  sound  from  a  distant  corner  warned  him  that  he 
was  not  alone.  He  stopped  short  and  looked  fixedly  at 
the  slight,  feminine  figure  whose  white  fingers  were  flashing 
over  the  keyboard  of  a  typewriter.  There  was  something 
very  familiar  about  the  curve  of  her  neck  and  the  waving  of 
her  brown  hair ;  her  back  was  to  him,  and  she  did  not  turn 
round. 

"  Do  leave  me  some  cigarettes,"  she  said,  without  lifting 
her  head.  "This  is  frightfully  monotonous  work.  How 
much  more  of  it  is  there  for  me  to  do  ?  " 

"  I  really  don't  know,"  Wolfenden  answered  hesitatingly. 
"  Why,  Blanche  ! " 

She  swung  round  in  her  chair  and  gazed  at  him  in  blank 
amazement;  she  was,  at  least,  as  much  surprised  as  he 
was. 

"  Lord  Wolfenden  ! "  she  exclaimed ;  "  why,  what  are  you 
doing  here  ?  " 

"  I  might  ask  you,"  he  said  gravely,  "  the  same  ques- 
tion." 

She  stood  up. 

"  You  have  not  come  to  see  me  ?  " 

He  shook  his  head. 

13  I93 


i$4  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"  I  had  not  the  least  idea  that  you  were  here,"  he  assured 
her. 

Her  face  hardened. 

"  Of  course  not.  I  was  an  idiot  to  imagine  that  you 
would  care  enough  to  come,  even  if  you  had  known." 

"  I  do  not  know,"  he  remarked,  "  why  you  should  say 
that.  On  the  contrary " 

She  interrupted  him. 

"  Oh  !  I  know  what  you  are  going  to  say.  I  ran  away 
from  Mrs.  Selby's  nice  rooms,  and  never  thanked  you  for 
your  kindness.  I  didn't  even  leave  a  message  for  you,  did 
I  ?  Well,  never  mind  ;  you  know  why,  I  daresay." 

Wolfenden  thought  that  he  did,  but  he  evaded  a  direct 
answer. 

"  What  I  cannot  understand,"  he  said,  "  is  why  you  are 
here." 

"  It  is  my  new  situation,"  she  answered.  "  I  was  bound 
to  look  for  one,  you  know.  There  is  nothing  strange  about 
it.  I  advertised  for  a  situation,  and  I  got  this  one." 

He  was  silent.  There  were  things  in  connection  with 
this  which  he  scarcely  understood.  She  watched  him  with 
a  mocking  smile  parting  her  lips. 

"  It  is  a  good  deal  harder  to  understand,"  she  said, 
"  why  you  are  here.  This  is  the  very  last  house  in  the 
world  in  which  I  should  have  thought  of  seeing  you." 

"  Why?  "  he  asked  quickly. 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders ;  her  speech  had  been 
scarcely  a  discreet  one. 

"I  should  not  have  imagined,"  she  said,  "that  Mr. 
Sabin  would  have  come  within  the  circle  of  your  friends." 

"  I  do  not  know  why  he  should  not,"  Wolfenden  said. 
"  I  consider  him  a  very  interesting  man." 

She  smiled  upon  him. 

"  Yes,  he  is  interesting,"  she  said ;  "  only  I  should  not 
have  thought  that  your  tastes  were  at  all  identical." 


THE  WAY  OF  THE  WOMAN  195 

"You  seem  to  know  a  good  deal  about  him,"  Wolfenden 
remarked  quietly. 

For  a  moment  an  odd  light  gleamed  in  her  eyes ;  she 
was  very  pale.  Wolfenden  moved  towards  her. 

"  Blanche,"  he  said,  "  has  anything  gone  wrong  with 
you?  You  don't  look  well." 

She  withdrew  her  hands  from  her  face. 

"  There  is  nothing  wrong  with  me,"  she  said.  "  Hush  ! 
he  is  coming." 

She  swung  round  in  her  seat,  and  the  quick  clicking  of 
the  instrument  was  resumed  as  her  fingers  flew  over  it. 
The  door  opened,  and  Mr.  Sabin  entered.  He  leaned  on 
his  stick,  standing  on  the  threshold,  and  glanced  keenly  at 
both  of  them. 

"  My  dear  Lord  Wolfenden,"  he  said  apologetically, 
"this  is  the  worst  of  having  country  servants.  Fancy 
showing  you  in  here.  Come  and  join  us  in  the  other 
room  ;  we  are  just  going  to  have  our  coffee." 

Wolfenden  followed  him  with  alacrity ;  they  crossed  the 
little  hall  and  entered  the  dining-room.  Helene  was  still 
sitting  there  sipping  her  coffee  in  an  easy  chair.  She  wel- 
comed him  with  outstretched  hand  and  a  brilliantly  soft 
smile.  Mr.  Sabin,  who  was  watching  her  closely,  appre- 
ciated, perhaps  for  the  first  time,  her  rare  womanly  beauty, 
apart  from  its  distinctly  patrician  qualities.  There  was 
a  change,  and  he  was  not  the  man  to  be  blind  to  it  or  to 
under-rate  its  significance.  He  felt  that  on  the  eve  of 
victory  he  had  another  and  an  unexpected  battle  to  fight ; 
yet  he  held  himself  like  a  brave  man  and  one  used  to 
reverses,  for  he  showed  no  signs  of  dismay. 

"  I  want  you  to  try  a  glass  of  this  claret,  Lord 
Wolfenden,"  he  said,  "before  you  begin  your  coffee.  I 
know  that  you  are  a  judge,  and  I  am  rather  proud  of  it. 
You  are  not  going  away,  Helene  ?  " 

"  I  had  no  idea  of  going,"  she  laughed.     "  This  is  really 


196  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

the  only  habitable  room  in  the  house,  and  I  am  not  going 
to  let  Lord  Wolfenden  send  me  to  shiver  in  what  we  call 
the  drawing-room." 

"  I  should  be  very  sorry  if  you  thought  of  such  a  thing," 
Wolfenden  answered. 

"  If  you  will  excuse  me  for  a  moment,"  Mr.  Sabin  said, 
"  I  will  unpack  some  cigarettes.  Helene,  will  you  see  that 
Lord  Wolfenden  has  which  liqueur  he  prefers  ?  " 

He  limped  away,  and  Helene  watched  him  leave  the 
room  with  some  surprise.  These  were  tactics  which  she 
did  not  understand.  Was  he  already  making  up  his  mind 
that  the  game  could  be  played  without  her?  She  was 
puzzled — a  little  uneasy. 

She  turned  to  find  Wolfenden's  admiring  eyes  fixed 
upon  her ;  she  looked  at  him  with  a  smile,  half-sad,  half- 
humorous. 

"  Let  me  remember,"  she  said,  "  I  am  to  see  that  you 
have — what  was  it  ?  Oh  !  liqueurs.  We  haven't  much 
choice ;  you  will  find  Kummel  and  Chartreuse  on  the  side- 
board, and  Benedictine,  which  my  uncle  hates,  by  the  bye, 
at  your  elbow." 

"  No  liqueurs,  thanks,"  he  said.  "  I  wonder,  did  you 
expect  me  to-night  ?  I  don't  think  that  I  ought  to  have 
come,  ought  I  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  certainly  show,"  she  answered  with  a  smile, 
"  a  remarkable  disregard  for  all  precedents  and  conventions. 
You  ought  to  be  already  on  your  way  to  foreign  parts  with 
your  guns  and  servants.  It  is  Englishmen,  is  it  not,  who 
go  always  to  the  Rocky  Mountains  to  shoot  bears  when 
their  love  affairs  go  wrong  ?  " 

He  was  watching  her  closely,  and  he  saw  that  she  was 
less  at  her  ease  than  she  would  have  had  him  believe.  He 
saw,  too,  or  fancied  that  he  saw,  a  softening  in  her  face, 
a  kindliness  gleaming  out  of  her  lustrous  eyes  which 
suggested  new  things  to  him. 


THE  WAY  OF  THE  WOMAN  197 

"The  Rocky  Mountains,"  he  said  slowly,  "mean  des- 
pair. A  man  does  not  go  so  far  whilst  he  has  hope." 

She  did  not  answer  him ;  he  gathered  courage  from  her 
silence. 

"  Perhaps,"  he  said,  "  I  might  now  have  been  on  my 
way  there  but  for  a  somewhat  sanguine  disposition — a  very 
strong  determination,  and,"  he  added  more  softly,  "  a  very 
intense  love." 

"  It  takes,"  she  remarked,  "  a  very  great  deal  to  dis- 
courage an  Englishman." 

"Speaking  for  myself,"  he  answered,  "  I  defy  discourage- 
ment ;  I  am  proof  against  it.  I  love  you  so  dearly,  Helene, 
that  I  simply  decline  to  give  you  up ;  I  warn  you  that  I  am 
not  a  lover  to  be  shaken  off." 

His  voice  was  very  tender;  his  words  sounded  to  her 
sirriple  but  strong.  He  was  so  sure  of  himself  and  his  love. 
Truly,  she  thought,  for  an  Englishman  this  was  no  indif- 
ferent wooer ;  his  confidence  thrilled  her ;  she  felt  her  heart 
beat  quickly  under  its  sheath  of  drooping  black  lace  and 
roses. 

"  I  am  giving  you,"  she  said  quietly,  "  no  hope.  Re- 
member that;  but  I  do  not  want  you  to  go  away." 

The  hope  which  her  tongue  so  steadfastly  refused  to 
speak  he  gathered  from  her  eyes,  her  face,  from  that 
indefinable  softening  which  seems  to  pervade  at  the 
moment  of  yielding  a  woman's  very  personality.  He  was 
wonderfully  happy,  although  he  had  the  wit  to  keep  it  to 
himself. 

"You  need  not  fear,"  he  whispered,  "I  shall  not  go 
away." 

Outside  they  heard  the  sound  of  Mr.  Sabin's  stick.  She 
leaned  over  towards  him. 

"  I  want  you,"  she  said,  "  to — kiss  me." 

His  heart  gave  a  great  leap,  but  he  controlled  himself. 
Intuitively  he  knew  how  much  was  permitted  to  him ;  he 


198  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

seemed  to  have  even  some  faint  perception  of  the  cause  for 
her  strange  request.  He  bent  over  and  took  her  face  for 
a  moment  between  his  hands ;  her  lips  touched  his — she 
had  kissed  him  ! 

He  stood  away  from  her,  breathless  with  the  excitement 
of  the  moment.  The  perfume  of  her  hair,  the  soft  touch  of 
her  lips,  the  gentle  movement  with  which  she  had  thrust 
him  away,  these  things  were  like  the  drinking  of  strong  wine 
to  him.  Her  own  cheeks  were  scarlet ;  outside  the  sound 
of  Mr.  Sabin's  stick  grew  more  and  more  distinct;  she 
smoothed  her  hair  and  laughed  softly  up  at  him. 

"  At  least,"  she  murmured,  "  there  is  that  to  remember 
always." 


CHAPTER  XXV 

A   HANDFUL   OF   ASHES 

THE  Countess  of  Deringham  was  sitting  alone  in  her 
smaller  drawing-room,  gazing  steadfastly  at  a  certain  spot 
in  the  blazing  fire  before  her.  A  little  pile  of  grey  ashes 
was  all  that  remained  of  the  sealed  packet  which  she  had 
placed  within  the  bars  only  a  few  seconds  ago.  She 
watched  it  slowly  grow  shapeless — piece  after  piece  went 
fluttering  up  the  broad  chimney.  A  gentle  yet  melancholy 
smile  was  parting  her  lips.  A  chapter  of  her  life  was  float- 
ing away  there  with  the  little  trembling  strips  lighter  than 
the  air,  already  hopelessly  destroyed.  Their  disintegration 
brought  with  it  a  sense  of  freedom  which  she  had  lacked  for 
many  years.  Yet  it  was  only  the  folly  of  a  girl,  the  story  of 
a  little  foolish  love-making,  which  those  grey,  ashen  frag- 
ments, clinging  so  tenaciously  to  the  iron  bars,  could  have 
unfolded.  Lady  Deringham  was  not  a  woman  who  had 
ever  for  a  single  moment  had  cause  to  reproach  herself  with 
any  realJack  of  duty  to  the  brave  young  Englishman  whom 
she  had  married  so  many  years  ago.  It  was  of  those  days 
she  was  thinking  as  she  sat  there  waiting  for  the  caller, 
whose  generosity  had  set  her  free. 

At  precisely  four  o'clock  there  was  the  sound  of  wheels 
in  the  drive,  the  slow  movement  of  feet  in  the  hall,  and  a 
servant  announced  a  visitor. 

"  Mr.  Sabin." 

Lady  Deringham  smiled  and  greeted  him  graciously. 
199 


200  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

Mr  Sabin  leaned  upon  his  wonderful  stick  for  a  moment, 
and  then  bent  low  over  Lady  Deringham's  hand.  She 
pointed  to  an  easy  chair  close  to  her  own,  and  he  sank  into 
it  with  some  appearance  of  weariness.  He  was  looking  a 
little  old  and  tired,  and  he  carried  himself  without  any  of 
his  usual  buoyancy. 

"  Only  a  few  minutes  ago,"  she  said,  "  I  burnt  my  letters. 
I  was  thinking  of  those  days  in  Paris  when  the  man 
announced  you !  How  old  it  makes  one  feel." 

He  looked  at  her  critically. 

"  I  am  beginning  to  arrive  at  the  conclusion,"  he  said, 
"  that  the  poets  and  the  novelists  are  wrong.  It  is  the 
man  who  suffers  !  Look  at  my  grey  hairs  ! " 

"  It  is  only  the  art  of  my  maid,"  she  said  smiling, 
"which  conceals  mine.  Do  not  let  us  talk  of  the  past  at  all; 
to  think  that  we  lived  so  long  ago  is  positively  appalling ! " 

He  shook  his  head  gently. 

"  Not  so  appalling,"  he  answered,  "  as  the  thought  of 
how  long  we  still  have  to  live  !  One  regrets  one's  youth  as 
a  matter  of  course,  but  the  prospect  of  old  age  is  more 
terrible  still !  Lucky  those  men  and  those  women  who  live 
and  then  die.  It  is  that  interregnum — the  level,  monoto- 
nous plain  of  advancing  old  age,  when  one  takes  the  waters 
at  Carlsbad  and  looks  askance  at  the  entrees — that  is  what 
one  has  to  dread.  To  watch  our  own  degeneration,  the 
dropping  away  of  our  energies,  the  decline  of  our  taste — 
why,  the  tortures  of  the  Inquisition  were  trifles  to  it ! " 

She  shuddered  a  little. 

"  You  paint  old  age  in  dreary  colours,"  she  said. 

"  I  paint  it  as  it  must  seem  to  men  who  have  kept  the 
kernel  of  life  between  their  teeth,"  he  answered  carelessly. 
"  To  the  others — well,  one  cares  little  about  them.  Most 
men  are  like  cows,  they  are  contented  so  long  as  they  are 
fed.  To  that  class  I  daresay  old  age  may  seem  something 
of  a  rest  But  neither  you  nor  I  are  akin  to  them." 


A  HANDFUL  OF  ASHES  201 

"  You  talk  as  you  always  talked,"  she  said.  "  Mr.  Sabin 
is  very  like " 

He  stopped  her. 

"Mr.  Sabin,  if  you  please,"  he  exclaimed.  "I  am 
particularly  anxious  to  preserve  my  incognito  just  now. 
Ever  since  we  met  yesterday  I  have  been  regretting  that  I 
did  not  mention  it  to  you — I  do  not  wish  it  to  be  known 
that  I  am  in  England." 

"  Mr.  Sabin  it  shall  be,  then,"  she  answered  ;  "  only  if  I 
were  you  I  would  have  chosen  a  more  musical  name." 

"  I  wonder — have  you  by  chance  spoken  of  me  to  your 
son  ?  "  he  asked. 

"It  is  only  by  chance  that  I  have  not,"  she  admitted. 
"  I  have  scarcely  seen  him  alone  to-day,  and  he  was  out 
last  evening.  Do  you  wish  to  remain  Mr.  Sabin  to  him 
also  ?  " 

"To  him  particularly,"  Mr.  Sabin  declared;  "young 
men  are  seldom  discreet." 

Lady  Deringham  smiled. 

"  Wolfenden  is  not  a  gossip,"  she  remarked ;  "  in  fact  I 
believe  he  is  generally  considered  too  reserved." 

"  For  the  present,  nevertheless,"  he  said,  "  let  me  remain 
Mr.  Sabin  to  him  also.  I  do  not  ask  you  this  without  a 
purpose." 

Lady  Deringham  bowed  her  head.  This  man  had  a 
right  to  ask  her  more  than  such  slight  favours. 

"  You  are  still,"  she  said,  "  a  man  of  mystery  and  incog- 
nitos. You  are  still,  I  suppose,  a  plotter  of  great  schemes. 
In  the  old  days  you  used  to  terrify  me  almost ;  are  you  still 
as  daring  ?  " 

"  Alas  !  no,"  he  answered.  "  Time  is  rapidly  drawing 
me  towards  the  great  borderland,  and  when  my  foot  is  once 
planted  there  I  shall  carry  out  my  theories  and  make  my 
bow  to  the  world  with  the  best  grace  a  man  may  whose  life 
has  been  one  long  chorus  of  disappointments.  No !  I 


302  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

have  retired  from  the  great  stage;  mine  is  now  only  a 
passive  occupation.  One  returns  always,  you  know,  and  in 
a  mild  way  I  have  returned  to  the  literary  ambitions  of  my 
youth.  It  is  in  connection,  by  the  bye,  with  this  that  I 
arrive  at  the  favour  which  you  so  kindly  promised  to  grant 
me." 

"  If  you  knew,  Victor,"  she  said,  "  how  grateful  I  feel 
towards  you,  you  would  not  hesitate  to  ask  me  anything 
within  my  power  to  grant." 

Mr.  Sabin  toyed  with  his  stick  and  gazed  steadfastly  into 
the  fire.  He  was  pensive  for  several  minutes ;  then,  with 
the  air  of  a  man  who  suddenly  detaches  himself  from 
a  not  unpleasant  train  of  thought,  he  looked  up  with 
a  smile. 

"  I  am  not  going  to  tax  you  very  severely,"  he  said.  "  I 
am  writing  a  critical  paper  on  the  armaments  of  the  world 
for  a  European  review.  I  had  letters  of  introduction  to 
Mr.  C,  and  he  gave  me  a  great  deal  of  valuable  informa- 
tion. There  were  one  or  two  points,  however,  on  which  he 
was  scarcely  clear,  and  in  the  course  of  conversation  he 
mentioned  your  husband's  name  as  being  the  greatest  living 
authority  upon  those  points.  He  offered  to  give  me  a 
letter  to  him,  but  I  thought  it  would  perhaps  scarcely  be 
wise.  I  fancied,  too,  you  might  be  inclined,  for  reasons 
which  we  need  not  enlarge  upon,  to  help  me." 

For  a  simple  request  Lady  Deringham's  manner  of 
receiving  it  was  certainly  strange ;  she  was  suddenly  white 
almost  to  the  lips.  A  look  of  positive  fear  was  in  her  eyes. 
The  frank  cordiality,  the  absolute  kindliness  with  which  she 
had  welcomed  her  visitor  was  gone.  She  looked  at  him 
with  new  eyes;  the  old  mistrust  was  born  again.  Once 
more  he  was  the  man  to  be  feared  and  dreaded  above  all 
other  men;  yet  she  would  not  give  way  altogether.  He 
was  watching  her  narrowly,  and  she  made  a  brave  effort 
to  regain  her  composure. 


A  HANDFUL  OF  ASHES  203 

"  But  do  you  not  know,"  she  said  hesitatingly,  "  that  my 
husband  is  a  great  invalid  ?  It  is  a  very  painful  subject  for 
all  of  us,  but  we  fear  that  his  mind  is  not  what  it  used  to 
be.  He  has  never  been  the  same  man  since  that  awful 
night  in  the  Solent.  His  work  is  more  of  a  hobby  with 
him;  it  would  not  be  at  all  reliable  for  reference." 

"  Not  all  of  it,  certainly,"  he  assented.  "  Mr.  C.  ex 
plained  that  to  me.  What  I  want  is  an  opportunity  to 
discriminate.  Some  would  be  very  useful  to  me — the 
majority,  of  course,  worse  than  useless.  The  particular 
information  which  I  want  concerns  the  structural  defects 
in  some  of  the  new  battleships.  It  would  save  an  immense 
amount  of  time  to  get  this  succinctly." 

She  looked  away  from  him,  still  agitated. 

"There  are  difficulties,"  she  murmured;  "serious  ones. 
My  husband  has  an  extraordinary  idea  as  to  the  value  of 
his  own  researches,  and  he  is  always  haunted  by  a  fear  lest 
some  one  should  break  in  and  steal  his  papers.  He  would 
not  suffer  me  to  glance  at  them ;  and  the  room  is  too 
closely  guarded  for  me  to  take  you  there  without  his  know- 
ledge. He  is  never  away  himself,  and  one  of  the  keepers 
is  stationed  outside." 

"The  wit  of  a  woman,"  Mr.  Sabin  said  softly,  "is  all- 
conquering." 

"Providing  always,"  Lady  Deringham  said,  "that  the 
woman  is  willing.  I  do  not  understand  what  it  all  means. 
Do  you  know  this?  Perhaps  you  do.  There  have  been 
efforts  made  by  strangers  to  break  into  my  husband's  room. 
Only  a  few  days  ago  a  stranger  came  here  with  a  forged 
letter  of  introduction,  and  obtained  access  to  the  Admiral's 
library.  He  did  not  come  to  steal.  He  came  to  study 
my  husband's  work ;  he  came,  in  fact,  for  the  very  purpose 
which  you  avow.  Only  yesterday  my  son  began  to  take 
the  same  interest  in  the  same  thing.  The  whole  of  this 
morning  he  spent  with  his  father,  under  the  pretence  of 


204  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

helping  him  ;  really  he  was  studying  and  examining  for 
himself.  He  has  not  told  me  what  it  is,  but  he  has  a 
reason  for  this ;  he,  too,  has  some  suspicions.  Now  you 
come,  and  your  mission  is  the  same.  What  does  it  all 
mean?  I  will  write  to  Mr.  C.  myself;  he  will  come  down 
and  advise  me." 

"  I  would  not  do  that  if  I  were  you,"  Mr.  Sabin  said 
quietly.  "Mr.  C.  would  not  thank  you  to  be  dragged 
down  here  on  such  an  idle  errand." 

"  Ay,  but  would  it  be  an  idle  errand  ?  "  she  said  slowly. 
"  Victor,  be  frank  with  me.  I  should  hate  to  refuse  any- 
thing you  asked  me.  Tell  me  what  it  means.  Is  my 
husband's  work  of  any  real  value,  and  if  so  to  whom,  and 
for  what  purpose  ?  " 

Mr.  Sabin  was  gently  distressed. 

"  My  dear  Lady  Deringham,"  he  said,  "  I  have  told  you 
the  exact  truth.  I  want  to  get  some  statistics  for  my 
paper.  Mr.  C.  himself  recommended  me  to  try  and  get 
them  from  your  husband ;  that  is  absolutely  all.  As  for 
this  attempted  robbery  of  which  you  were  telling  me, 
believe  me  when  I  assure  you  that  I  know  nothing  what- 
ever about  it.  Your  son's  interest  is,  after  all,  only  natural. 
The  study  of  the  papers  on  which  your  husband  has  been 
engaged  is  the  only  reasonable  test  of  his  sanity.  Frankly, 
I  cannot  believe  that  any  one  in  Lord  Deringham's  mental 
state  could  produce  any  work  likely  to  be  of  the  slightest 
permanent  value." 

The  Countess  sighed. 

"  I  suppose  that  I  must  believe  you,  Victor,"  she  said ; 
"  yet,  notwithstanding  all  that  you  say,  I  do  not  know  how 
to  help  you — my  husband  scarcely  ever  leaves  the  room. 
He  works  there  with  a  revolver  by  his  side.  If  he  were  to 
find  a  stranger  near  his  work  I  believe  that  he  would  shoot 
him  without  hesitation." 

"  At  night  time " 


A  HANDFUL  OF  ASHES  205 

"  At  night  time  he  usually  sleeps  there  in  an  anteroom, 
and  outside  there  is  a  man  always  watching." 

Mr.  Sabin  looked  thoughtful. 

"  It  is  only  necessary,"  he  said,  "  for  me  to  be  in  the 
room  for  about  ten  minutes,  and  I  do  not  need  to  carry 
anything  away;  my  memory  will  serve  me  for  all  that  I 
require.  By  some  means  or  other  I  must  have  that  ten 
minutes." 

"  You  will  risk  your  life,"  Lady  Deringham  said,  "  for  I 
cannot  suggest  any  plan ;  I  would  help  you  if  I  could,  but 
I  am  powerless." 

"  I  must  have  that  ten  minutes,"  Mr.  Sabin  said  slowly. 

"  Must ! "  Lady  Deringham  raised  her  eyebrows.  There 
was  a  subtle  change  in  the  tone  of  the  man,  a  note  of 
authority,  perhaps  even  the  shadow  of  a  threat;  he  noted 
the  effect  and  followed  it  up. 

"  I  mean  what  I  say,  Constance,"  he  declared.  "  I  am 
not  asking  you  a  great  thing ;  you  have  your  full  share  of 
woman's  wit,  and  you  can  arrange  this  if  you  like." 

"  But,  Victor,  be  reasonable,"  she  protested ;  "  suggest  a 
way  yourself  if  you  think  it  so  easy.  I  tell  you  that  he 
never  leaves  the  room  ! " 

"  He  must  be  made  to  leave  it." 

"  By  force  ?  " 

"  If  necessary,"  Mr.  Sabin  answered  coolly. 

Lady  Deringham  raised  her  hand  to  her  forehead  and 
sat  thinking.  The  man's  growing  earnestness  bewildered 
her.  What  was  to  be  done — what  could  she  say  ?  After 
all  he  was  not  changed ;  the  old  fear  of  him  was  creeping 
through  her  veins,  yet  she  made  her  effort. 

"You  want  those  papers  for  something  more  than  a 
magazine  article  ! "  she  declared.  "  There  is  something 
behind  all  this  !  Victor,  I  cannot  help  you ;  I  am  power- 
less. I  will  take  no  part  in  anything  which  I  cannot 
understand." 


206  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

He  stood  up,  leaning  a  little  upon  his  stick,  the  dull, 
green  stone  of  which  flashed  brightly  in  the  firelight. 

"  You  will  help  me,"  he  said  slowly.  "  You  will  let  me 
into  that  room  at  night,  and  you  will  see  that  your  husband 
is  not  there,  or  that  he  does  not  interfere.  And  as  to  that 
magazine  article,  you  are  right !  What  if  it  were  a  lie !  I 
do  not  fly  at  small  game.  Now  do  you  understand  ?  " 

She  rose  to  her  feet  and  drew  herself  up  before  him 
proudly.  She  towered  above  him,  handsome,  dignified, 
angry. 

"Victor,"  she  said  firmly,  "I  refuse;  you  can  go  away 
at  once !  I  will  have  no  more  to  say  or  to  do  with  you  ! 
You  have  given  me  up  my  letters,  it  is  true,  yet  for  that  you 
have  no  special  claim  upon  my  gratitude.  A  man  of 
honour  would  have  destroyed  them  long  ago." 

He  looked  up  at  her,  and  the  ghost  of  an  unholy  smile 
flickered  upon  his  lips. 

"  Did  I  tell  you  that  I  had  given  them  all  back  to  you  ?  " 
he  said.  "Ah  !  that  was  a  mistake;  all  save  one,  I  should 

have  said !  One  I  kept,  in  case Well,  your  sex  are 

proverbially  ungrateful,  you  know.  It  is  the  one  on  the 
yellow  paper  written  from  Mentone )  You  remember  it  ? 
I  always  liked  it  better  than  any  of  the  others." 

Her  white  hands  flashed  out  in  the  firelight.  It  seemed 
almost  as  though  she  must  have  struck  him.  He  had  lied 
to  her !  She  was  not  really  free ;  he  was  still  the  master 
and  she  his  slave  !  She  stood  as  though  turned  to  stone. 

"  I  think,"  he  said,  "  that  you  will  listen  now  to  a  little 
plan  which  has  just  occurred  to  me,  will  you  not  ?  " 

She  looked  away  from  him  with  a  shudder. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  she  asked  hoarsely. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

MR.    BLATHERWICK   AS    ST.    ANTHONY 

"I  AM  afraid,"  Harcutt  said,  "that  either  the  letter  was  a 
hoax,  or  the  writer  has  thought  better  of  the  matter.  It  is 
half  an  hour  past  the  time,  and  poor  Mr.  Blatherwick  is 
still  alone." 

Wolfenden  glanced  towards  the  distant  table  where  his 
father's  secretary  was  already  finishing  his  modest  meal. 

"  Poor  old  Blatherwick  ! "  he  remarked  ;  "  I  know  he's 
awfully  relieved.  He's  too  nervous  for  this  sort  of  thing  ;  I 
believe  he  would  have  lost  his  head  altogether  if  his  mys- 
terious correspondent  had  turned  up." 

"I  suppose,"  Harcutt  said,  "that  we  may  take  it  for 
granted  that  he  is  not  in  the  room." 

"  Every  soul  here,"  Wolfenden  answered,  "  is  known  to 
me  either  personally  or  by  sight.  The  man  with  the  dark 
moustache  sitting  by  himself  is  a  London  solicitor  who 
built  himself  a  bungalow  here  four  years  ago,  and  comes 
down  every  other  week  for  golf.  The  two  men  in  the 
corner  are  land  speculators  from  Norwich ;  and  their  neigh- 
bour is  Captain  Stoneham,  who  rides  over  from  the  barracks 
twice  a  week,  also  for  golf." 

"  It  is  rather  a  sell  for  us,"  Harcutt  remarked.  "  On  the 
whole  I  am  not  sorry  that  I  have  to  go  back  to  town  to- 
night. Great  Scott !  what  a  pretty  girl !  " 

"  Lean  back,  you  idiot ! "  Wolfenden  exclaimed  softly ; 
"  don't  move  if  you  can  help  it ! " 

107 


208  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

Harcutt  grasped  the  situation  and  obeyed  at  once.  The 
portion  of  the  dining-room  in  which  they  were  sitting  was 
little  more  than  a  recess,  divided  off  from  the  main  apart- 
ment by  heavy  curtains  and  seldom  used  except  in  the 
summer  when  visitors  were  plentiful.  Mr.  Blatherwick's 
table  was  really  within  a  few  feet  of  theirs,  but  they  them- 
selves were  hidden  from  it  by  a  corner  of  the  folding  doors. 
They  had  chosen  the  position  with  care  and  apparently 
with  success. 

The  girl  who  had  entered  the  room  stood  for  a  moment 
looking  round  as  though  about  to  select  a  table.  Harcutt's 
exclamation  was  not  without  justification,  for  she  was  cer- 
tainly pretty.  She  was  neatly  dressed  in  a  grey  walking 
suit,  and  a  velvet  Tam-o-shanter  hat  with  a  smart  feather. 
Suddenly  she  saw  Mr.  Blatherwick  and  advanced  towards 
him  with  outstretched  hand  and  a  charming  smile. 

"  Why,  my  dear  Mr.  Blatherwick,  what  on  earth  are  you 
doing  here  ?  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Have  you  left  Lord  Dering- 
ham?" 

Mr.  Blatherwick  rose  to  his  feet  confused,  and  blushing 
to  his  spectacles ;  he  greeted  the  young  lady,  however,  with 
evident  pleasure. 

"  No ;  that  is,  not  yet,"  he  answered ;  "  I  am  leaving  this 
week.  I  did  not  know — I  had  no  idea  that  you  were  in  the 
vicinity  !  I  am  very  pleased  to  see  you." 

She  looked  at  the  empty  place  at  his  table. 

"  I  was  going  to  have  some  luncheon,"  she  said ;  "  I  have 
walked  so  much  further  than  I  intended  and  I  am  raven- 
ously hungry.  May  I  sit  at  your  table  ?  " 

"  With  much  pleasure,"  Mr.  Blatherwick  assented.  "  I 
was  expecting  a — a — friend,  but  he  is  evidently  not  coming." 

"  I  will  take  his  place  then,  if  I  may,"  she  said,  seating 
herself  in  the  chair  which  the  waiter  was  holding  for  her, 
and  raising  her  veil.  "  Will  you  order  something  for  me  ? 
I  am  too  hungry  to  mind  what  it  is." 


MR.  BLATHERWICK  AS  ST.  ANTHONY          209 

Mr.  Blatherwick  gave  a  hesitating  order,  and  the  waiter 
departed.  Miss  Merton  drew  off  her  gloves  and  was  per- 
fectly at  her  ease. 

"  Now  do  tell  me  about  the  friend  whom  you  were  going 
to  meet,"  she  said,  smiling  gaily  at  him,  "  I  hope — you 
really  must  not  tell  me,  Mr.  Blatherwick,  that  it  was  a 
lady ! " 

Mr.  Blatherwick  coloured  to  the  roots  of  his  hair  at  the 
mere  suggestion,  and  hastened  to  disclaim  it. 

"  My — my  dear  Miss  Merton  ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  I  can 
assure  you  that  it  was  not !  I — I  should  not  think  of  such 
a  thing." 

She  nodded,  and  began  to  break  up  her  roll  and  eat  it. 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  it,  Mr.  Blatherwick,"  she  said  ; 
"  I  warn  you  that  I  was  prepared  to  be  very  jealous.  You 
used  to  tell  me,  you  know,  that  I  was  the  only  girl  with 
whom  you  cared  to  talk." 

"  It  is — quite  true,  quite  true,  Miss  Merton,"  he  answered 
eagerly,  dropping  his  voice  a  little  and  glancing  uneasily 
over  his  shoulder.  "  I — I  have  missed  you  very  much 
indeed ;  it  has  been  very  dull." 

Mr.  Blatherwick  sighed  ;  he  was  rewarded  by  a  very  kind 
glance  from  a  pair  of  very  blue  eyes.  He  fingered  the  wine 
list,  and  began  to  wonder  whether  she  would  care  for  cham- 
pagne. 

"  Now  tell  me,"  she  said,  "  all  the  news.  How  are  they 
all  at  Deringham  Hall — the  dear  old  Admiral  and  the 
Countess,  and  that  remarkably  silly  young  man,  Lord 
Wolfenden  ?  " 

Wolfenden  received  a  kick  under  the  table,  and  Harcutt's 
face  positively  beamed  with  delight.  Mr.  Blatherwick,  how- 
ever, had  almost  forgotten  their  proximity.  He  had  made 
up  his  mind  to  order  champagne. 

"The  Ad — Ad — Admiral  is  well  in  health,  but  worse 
mentally,"  he  answered.  "  I  am  leaving  for  that  very 

14 


210  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

reason.  I  do  not  conceive  that  in  fairness  to  myself  I 
should  continue  to  waste  my  time  in  work  which  can  bring 
forth  no  fruit.  I  trust,  Miss  Merton,  that  you  agree  with 
me." 

"Perfectly,"  she  answered  gravely. 

"The  Countess,"  he  continued,  "is  well,  but  much 
worried.  There  have  been  strange  hap — hap — happenings 
at  the  Hall  since  you  left.  Lord  Wolfenden  is  there.  By 
the  bye,  Miss  Merton,"  he  added,  dropping  his  voice,  "I 
do  not — not — think  that  you  used  to  consider  Lord  Wolf- 
enden so  very  silly  when  you  were  at  Deringham." 

"  It  was  very  dull  sometimes — when  you  were  busy,  Mr. 
Blatherwick,"  she  answered,  beginning  her  lunch.  "  I  will 
confess  to  you  that  I  did  try  to  amuse  myself  a  little  with 
Lord  Wolfenden.  But  he  was  altogether  too  rustic — too 
stupid  !  I  like  a  man  with  brains !  " 

Harcutt  produced  a  handkerchief  and  stuffed  it  to  his 
mouth ;  his  face  was  slowly  becoming  purple  with  sup- 
pressed laughter.  Mr.  Blatherwick  ordered  the  champagne. 

"  I — I  was  very  jealous  of  him,"  he  admitted  almost  in  a 
whisper. 

The  blue  eyes  were  raised  again  very  eloquently  to  his. 

"  You  had  no  cause,"  she  said  gently ;  "  and  Mr.  Blather- 
wick, haven't  you  forgotten  something  ?  " 

Mr.  Blatherwick  had  sipped  his  glass  of  champagne,  and 
answered  without  a  stutter. 

"  I  have  not,"  he  said,  "  forgotten  you ! " 

"  You  used  to  call  me  by  my  Christian  name  !  " 

"I  should  be  delighted  to  call  you  Miss — Blanche  for 
ever,"  he  said  boldly.  "  May  I  ?  " 

She  laughed  softly. 

"  Well,  I  don't  quite  know  about  that,"  she  said ;  "  you 
may  for  this  morning,  at  least.  It  is  so  pleasant  to  see  you 
again.  How  is  the  work  getting  on  ?  " 

He  groaned. 


MR.  BLATHERWICK  AS  ST.  ANTHONY  211 

"  Don't  ask  me,  please ;  it  is  awful !  I  am  truly  glad 
that  I  am  leaving — for  many  reasons  ! " 

"  Have  you  finished  copying  those  awful  details  of  the 
defective  armour  plates  ? "  she  asked,  suddenly  dropping 
her  voice  so  that  it  barely  reached  the  other  side  of  the 
table. 

"  Only  last  night,"  he  answered ;  "  it  was  very  hard  work, 
and  so  ridiculous  !  It  went  into  the  box  with  the  rest  of 
the  finished  work  this  morning." 

"  Did  the  Admiral  engage  a  new  typewriter  ? "  she 
inquired. 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  No ;  he  says  that  he  has  nearly  finished." 

"  I  am  so  glad,"  she  said.  "  You  have  had  no  temptation 
to  flirt  then  with  anybody  else,  have  you  ?  " 

"  To  flirt — with  anybody  else  !  Oh  !  Miss — I  mean 
Blanche.  Do  you  think  that  I  could  do  that?" 

His  little  round  face  shone  with  sincerity  and  the  heat 
of  the  unaccustomed  wine.  His  eyes  were  watering  a  little, 
and  his  spectacles  were  dull.  The  girl  looked  at  him  in 
amusement. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  she  said,  with  a  sigh,  "  that  you  used  to 
flirt  with  me." 

"I  can  assure  you,  B — B — Blanche,"  he  declared  earnestly, 
"that  I  never  said  a  word  to  you  which  I — I  did  not 
hon — hon — honestly  mean.  Blanche,  I  should  like  to  ask 
you  something." 

"  Not  now,"  she  interrupted  hastily.  "  Do  you  know,  I 
fancy  that  we  must  be  getting  too  confidential.  That 
odious  man  with  the  eyeglass  keeps  staring  at  us.  Tell  me 
what  you  are  going  to  do  when  you  leave  here.  You  can 
ask  me — what  you  were  going  to,  afterwards." 

Mr.  Blatherwick  grew  eloquent  and  Blanche  was  sym- 
pathetic. It  was  quite  half  an  hour  before  they  rose  and 
prepared  to  depart. 


212  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"I  know  you  won't  mind,"  Blanche  said  to  him  con- 
fidentially, "  if  I  ask  you  to  leave  the  hotel  first ;  the  people 
I  am  with  are  a  little  particular,  and  it  would  scarcely  do, 
you  see,  for  us  to  go  out  together." 

"  Certainly,"  he  replied.  "  Would  you  1 — like  me  to  leave 
you  here — would  it  be  better  ?  " 

"  You  might  walk  to  the  door  with  me,  please,"  she  said. 
"I  am  afraid  you  must  be  very  disappointed  that  your 
friend  did  not  come.  Are  you  not  ?  " 

Mr.  Blatherwick's  reply  was  almost  incoherent  in  its 
excess  of  protestation.  They  walked  down  the  room 
together.  Harcutt  and  VVolfenden  look  at  one  another. 

"Well,"  the  former  exclaimed,  drinking  up  his  liqueur, 
"  it  is  a  sell ! " 

"Yes,"  Wolfenden  agreed  thoughtfully,  with  his  eyes 
fixed  upon  the  two  departing  figures,  "  it  is  a  sell ! " 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

BY   CHANCE    OR    DESIGN 

WOLFENDEN  sent  his  phaeton  to  the  station  with  Harcutt, 
who  had  been  summoned  back  to  town  upon  important 
business.  Afterwards  he  slipped  back  to  the  hall  to  wait 
for  its  return,  and  came  face  to  face  with  Mr.  Blatherwick, 
who  was  starting  homewards. 

"  I  was  looking  for  you,"  Wolfenden  said ;  "  your  luncheon 
party  turned  out  a  little  differently  to  anything  we  had  ex- 
pected." 

"I  am  happy,"  Mr.  Blatherwick  said,  "to  be  able  to 
believe  that  the  letter  was  after  all  a  hoax.  There  was  no 
one  in  the  room,  as  you  would  doubtless  observe,  likely  to 
be  in  any  way  concerned  in  the  matter." 

Wolfenden  knocked  the  ash  off  his  cigarette  without 
replying. 

"  You  seem,"  he  remarked,  "  to  be  on  fairly  intimate 
terms  with  Miss  Merton." 

"We  were  fellow  workers  for  several  months,"  Mr. 
Blatherwick  reminded  him ;  "  naturally,  we  saw  a  good  deal 
of  one  another." 

"  She  is,"  Wolfenden  continued,  "  a  very  charming  girl." 

"I  consider  her,  in  every  way,"  Mr.  Blatherwick  said 
with  enthusiasm,  "  a  most  delightful  young  lady.  I — I  am 
very  much  attached  to  her." 

Wolfenden  laid  his  hand  on  the  secretary's  shoulder. 

"  Blatherwick,"  he  said,  "  you're  a  good  fellow,  and  !•  like 
213 


214  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

pou.  Don't  be  offended  at  what  I  am  going  to  say.  You 
must  not  trust  Miss  Merton ;  she  is  not  quite  what  she 
appears  to  you." 

Mr.  Blatherwick  took  a  step  backward,  and  flushed  red 
with  anger. 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,  Lord  Wolfenden,"  he  said. 
"  What  do  you  know  of  Miss  Merton  ?  " 

"  Not  very  much,"  Wolfenden  said  quietly  ;  "  quite 
enough,  though,  to  justify  me  in  warning  you  seriously 
against  her.  She  is  a  very  clever  young  person,  but  I  am 
afraid  a  very  unscrupulous  one." 

Mr.  Blatherwick  was  grave,  almost  dignified. 

"Lord  Wolfenden,"  he  said,  "you  are  the  son  of  my 
employer,  but  I  take  the  liberty  of  telling  you  that  you  are 
a  1—1 " 

"  Steady,  Blatherwick,"  Wolfenden  interrupted ;  "  you 
must  not  call  me  names." 

"  You  are  not  speaking  the  truth,"  Mr.  Blatherwick  con- 
tinued, curbing  himself  with  an  effort.  "  I  will  not  listen 
to,  or — or  permit  in  my  presence  any  aspersion  against  that 
young  lady ! " 

Wolfenden  shook  his  head  gently. 

"Mr.  Blatherwick,"  he  said,  "don't  be  a  fool!  You 
ought  to  know  that  I  am  not  the  sort  of  man  to  make  evil 
remarks  about  a  lady  behind  her  back,  unless  I  knew  what 
I  was  talking  about.  I  cannot  at  this  moment  prove  it,  but 
I  am  morally  convinced  that  Miss  Merton  came  here  to-day 
at  the  instigation  of  the  person  who  wrote  to  you,  and  that 
she  only  refrained  from  making  you  some  offer  because  she 
knew  quite  well  that  we  were  within  hearing." 

"I  will  not  listen  to  another  word,  Lord  Wolfenden," 
Mr.  Blatherwick  declared  vigorously.  "  If  you  are  honest, 
you  are  cruelly  misjudging  that  young  lady ;  if  not  you 
must  know  yourself  the  proper  epithet  to  be  applied 
to  the  person  who  defames  an  innocent  girl  behind  her 


BY  CHANCE  OR  DESIGN  215 

back !  I  wish  you  good  afternoon,  sir.  I  shall  leave  Der- 
ingham  Hall  to-morrow." 

He  strode  away,  and  Wolfenden  watched  him  with  a 
faint,  regretful  smile  upon  his  lips.  Then  he  turned  round 
suddenly;  a  little  trill  of  soft  musical  laughter  came 
floating  out  from  a  recess  in  the  darkest  corner  of  the  hall. 
Miss  Merton  was  leaning  back  amongst  the  cushions  of  a 
lounge,  her  eyes  gleaming  with  amusement.  She  beckoned 
Wolfenden  to  her. 

"  Quite  melodramatic,  wasn't  it  ?  "  she  exclaimed,  moving 
her  skirts  for  him  to  sit  by  her  side.  "  Dear  little  man  ! 
Do  you  know  he  wants  to  marry  me  ?  " 

"What  a  clever  girl  you  are,"  Wolfenden  remarked; 
"  really  you'd  make  an  admirable  wife  for  him." 

She  pouted  a  little. 

"Thank  you  very  much,"  she  said.  "I  am  not  con- 
templating making  any  one  an  admirable  wife ;  matrimony 
does  not  attract  me  at  all." 

"  I  don't  know  what  pleasure  you  can  find  in  making  a 
fool  of  a  decent  little  chap  like  that,"  he  said ;  "  it's  too  bad 
of  you,  Blanche." 

"  One  must  amuse  oneself,  and  he  is  so  odd  and  so  very 
much  in  earnest." 

"  Of  course,"  Wolfenden  continued,  "  I  know  that  you 
had  another  object." 

"Had  I?" 

"  You  came  here  to  try  and  tempt  the  poor  little  fellow 
with  a  thousand  pounds  ! " 

"I  have  never,"  she  interposed  calmly,  "possessed  a 
thousand  shillings  in  my  life." 

"Not  on  your  own  account,  ot  course  :  you  came  on 
behalf  of  your  employer,  Mr.  Sabin,  or  some  one  behind 
him  !  What  is  this  devilry,  Blanche  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  out  of  wide-open  eyes,  but  she  made 
no  answer. 


2i6  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"  So  far  as  I  can  see,"  he  remarked,  "  I  must  confess  that 
foolery  seems  a  better  term.  I  cannot  imagine  anything  in 
my  father's  work  worth  the  concoction  of  any  elaborate 
scheme  to  steal.  But  never  mind  that ;  there  is  a  scheme, 
and  you  are  in  it.  Now  I  will  make  a  proposition  to  you. 
It  is  a  matter  of  money,  I  suppose;  will  you  name  your 
terms  to  come  over  to  my  side  ?  " 

A  look  crept  into  her  eyes  which  puzzled  him. 

"  Over  to  your  side,"  she  repeated  thoughtfully.  "  Do  you 
mind  telling  me  exactly  what  you  mean  by  that  ?  " 

As  though  by  accident  the  delicate  white  hand  from 
which  she  had  just  withdrawn  her  glove  touched  his,  and 
remained  there  as  though  inviting  his  clasp.  She  looked 
quickly  up  at  him  and  drooped  her  eyes.  Wolfenden  took 
her  hand,  patted  it  kindly,  and  replaced  it  in  her  lap. 

"  Look  here,  Blanche,"  he  said,  "  I  won't  affect  to  mis- 
understand you ;  but  haven't  you  learnt  by  this  time  that 
adventures  are  not  in  my  way  ? — less  now  than  at  any  time 
perhaps." 

She  was  watching  his  face  and  read  its  expression  with 
lightning-like  truth. 

"  Bah ! "  she  said,  "  there  is  no  man  who  would  be  so 
brutal  as  you  unless " 

"Unless  what?" 

"  He  were  in  love  with  another  girl ! " 

"  Perhaps  I  am,  Blanche  ! " 

"  I  know  that  you  are." 

He  looked  at  her  quickly. 

"  But  you  do  not  know  with  whom  ?  " 

She  had  not  guessed,  but  she  knew  now. 

"  I  think  so,"  she  said  ;  "  it  is  with  the  beautiful  niece  of 
Mr.  Sabin !  You  have  admirable  taste." 

"  Never  mind  about  that,"  he  said ;  "  let  us  come  to  my 
offer.  I  will  give  you  a  hundred  a  year  for  life,  settle  it 
upon  you,  if  you  will  tell  me  everything." 


BY  CHANCE  OR  DESIGN  217 

"A  hundred  a  year,"  she  repeated.  "Is  that  much 
money  ?  " 

"  Well,  it  will  cost  more  than  two  thousand  pound,"  he 
said;  "still,  I  would  like  you  to  have  it,  and  you  shall  if 
you  will  be  quite  frank  with  me." 

She  hesitated. 

"  I  should  like,"  she  said,  "  to  think  it  over  till  to-morrow 
morning ;  it  will  be  better,  for  supposing  I  decide  to  accept, 
I  shall  know  a  good  deal  more  of  this  than  I  know  now." 

"  Very  well,"  he  said,  "  only  I  should  strongly  advise  you 
to  accept." 

"One  hundred  a  year,"  she  repeated  thoughtfully. 
"  Perhaps  you  will  have  changed  your  mind  by  to-morrow." 

"  There  is  no  fear  of  it,"  he  assured  her  quietly. 

"  Write  it  down,"  she  said.     "  I  think  that  I  shall  agree." 

"  Don't  you  trust  me,  Blanche  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  business  transaction,"  she  said  coolly ;  "  you  have 
made  it  one  yourself." 

He  tore  a  sheet  from  his  pocket-book  and  scribbled  a 
few  lines  upon  it. 

"  Will  that  do  ?  "  he  asked  her. 

She  read  it  through  and  folded  it  carefully  up. 

"It  will  do  very  nicely,"  she  said  with  a  quiet  smile. 
"  And  now  I  must  go  back  as  quickly  as  I  can." 

They  walked  to  the  hall  door ;  Lord  Wolfenden's 
carriage  had  come  back  from  the  station  and  was  waiting 
for  him. 

"  How  are  you  going  ?  "  he  asked. 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  I  must  hire  something,  I  suppose,"  she  said.  "  What 
beautiful  horses  !  Do  you  see,  Hector  remembers  me  quite 
well ;  I  used  to  take  bread  to  him  in  the  stable  when  I  was 
at  Deringham  Hall.  Good  old  man  !  " 

She  patted  the  horse's  neck.  Wolfenden  did  not  like  it, 
but  he  had  no  alternative. 


*i8  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"  Won't  you  allow  me  to  give  you  a  lift  ?  "  he  said,  with  a 
marked  absence  of  cordiality  in  his  tone ;  "  or  if  you  would 
prefer  it,  I  can  easily  order  a  carriage  from  the  hotel." 

"  Oh  !  I  would  much  rather  go  with  you,  if  you  really 
don't  mind,"  she  said.  "  May  I  really  ?  " 

"  I  shall  be  very  pleased,"  he  answered  untruthfully.  "  I 
ought  perhaps  to  tell  you  that  the  horses  are  very  fresh  and 
don't  go  well  together :  they  have  a  nasty  habit  of  running 
away  down  hill." 

She  smiled  cheerfully,  and  lifting  her  skirts  placed  a 
dainty  little  foot  upon  the  step. 

"I  detest  quiet  horses,"  she  said,  "and  I  have  been 
used  to  being  run  away  with  all  my  life.  I  rather  like  it." 

Wolfenden  resigned  himself  to  the  inevitable.  He  took 
the  reins,  and  they  rattled  off  towards  Deringham.  About 
half-way  there,  they  saw  a  little  black  figure  away  on  the 
cliff  path  to  the  right. 

"  It  is  Mr.  Blatherwick,"  Wolfenden  said,  pointing  with 
his  whip.  "  Poor  little  chap !  I  wish  you'd  leave  him  alone, 
Blanche!" 

"On  one  condition,"  she  said,  smiling  up  at  him,  "I 
will ! " 

"  It  is  granted  already,"  he  declared. 

"  That  you  let  me  drive  for  just  a  mile  !  " 

He  handed  her  the  reins  at  once,  and  changed  seats. 
From  the  moment  she  took  them,  he  could  see  that  she 
was  an  accomplished  whip.  He  leaned  back  and  lit  a 
cigarette. 

"  Blatherwick's  salvation,"  he  remarked,  "  has  been  easily 
purchased." 

She  smiled  rather  curiously,  but  did  not  reply.  A  hired 
carriage  was  coming  towards  them,  and  her  eyes  were  fixed 
upon  it.  In  a  moment  they  swept  past,  and  Wolfenden 
was  conscious  of  a  most  unpleasant  sensation.  It  was 
Helene,  whose  dark  eyes  were  glancing  from  the  girl  to 


BY  CHANCE  OR  DESIGN  219 

him  in  cold  surprise  ;  and  Mr.  Sabin,  who  was  leaning  back 
by  her  side  wrapped  in  a  huge  fur  coat.  Blanche  looked 
down  at  him  innocently. 

"Fancy  meeting  them,"  she  remarked,  touching  Hector 
with  the  whip.  "  It  does  not  matter,  does  it  ?  You  look 
dreadfully  cross  ! " 

Wolfenden  muttered  some  indefinite  reply  and  threw  his 
cigarette  savagely  into  the  road.  After  all  he  was  not  so 
sure  that  Mr.  Blatherwick's  salvation  had  been  cheaply 
won  ! 


CHAPTER    XXVIII 

A    MIDNIGHT   VISITOR 

"WOLF!    Wolf!" 

Wolfenden,  to  whom  sleep  before  the  early  morning 
hours  was  a  thing  absolutely  impossible,  was  lounging  in 
his  easy  chair  meditating  on  the  events  of  the  day  over  a 
final  cigarette.  He  had  come  to  his  room  at  midnight  in 
rather  a  dejected  frame  of  mind ;  the  day's  happenings  had 
scarcely  gone  in  his  favour.  Helene  had  looked  upon  him 
coldly — almost  with  suspicion.  In  the  morning  he  would 
be  able  to  explain  everything,  but  in  the  meantime  Blanche 
was  upon  the  spot,  and  he  had  an  uneasy  feeling  that  the 
girl  was  his  enemy.  He  had  begun  to  doubt  whether  that 
drive,  so  natural  a  thing,  as  it  really  happened,  was  not 
carefully  planned  on  her  part,  with  a  full  knowledge  of  the 
fact  that  they  would  meet  Mr.  Sabin  and  his  niece.  It 
was  all  the  more  irritating  because  during  the  last  few  days 
he  had  been  gradually  growing  into  the  belief  that  so  far  as 
his  suit  with  Helene  was  concerned,  the  girl  herself  was  not 
altogether  indifferent  to  him.  She  had  refused  him  definitely 
enough,  so  far  as  mere  words  went,  but  there  were  lights  in 
her  soft,  dark  eyes,  and  something  indefinable,  but  apparent 
in  her  manner,  which  had  forbidden  him  to  abandon  all 
hope.  Yet  it  was  hard  to  believe  that  she  was  in  any  way 
subject  to  the  will  of  her  guardian,  Mr.  Sabin.  In  small 
things  she  took  no  pains  to  study  him ;  she  was  evidently 
not  in  the  least  under  his  dominion.  On  the  contrary, 


A  MIDNIGHT  VISITOR  211 

there  was  in  his  manner  towards  her  a  certain  deference, 
as  though  it  were  she  whose  will  was  the  ruling  one  between 
them.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  her  appearance  and  whole 
bearing  seemed  to  indicate  one  accustomed  to  command. 
Her  family  or  connections  she  had  never  spoken  of  to 
him,  yet  he  had  not  the  slightest  doubt  but  that  she  was 
of  gentle  birth.  Even  if  it  should  turn  out  that  this  was 
not  the  case,  Wolfenden  was  democratic  enough  to  think 
that  it  made  no  difference.  She  was  good  enough  to  be 
his  wife.  Her  appearance  and  manners  were  almost 
typically  aristocratic — whatever  there  might  be  in  her 
present  surroundings  or  in  her  past  which  savoured  of 
mystery,  he  would  at  least  have  staked  his  soul  upon  her 
honesty.  He  realised  very  fully,  as  he  sat  there  smoking 
in  the  early  hours  of  the  morning,  that  this  was  no  passing 
fancy  of  his ;  she  was  his  first  love — for  good  or  for  evil 
she  would  be  his  last.  Failure,  he  said  to  himself,  was  a 
word  which  he  would  not  admit  in  his  vocabulary.  She 
was  moving  towards  him  already,  some  day  she  should  be 
his !  Through  the  mists  of  blue  tobacco  smoke  which 
hovered  around  him  he  seemed,  with  a  very  slight  and 
very  pleasant  effort  of  his  imagination,  to  see  some  faint 
visions  of  her  in  that  more  softening  mood,  the  vaguest 
recollection  of  which  set  his  heart  beating  fast  and  sent 
the  blood  moving  through  his  veins  to  music.  How 
delicately  handsome  she  was,  how  exquisite  the  lines  of  her 
girlish,  yet  graceful  and  queenly  figure.  With  her  clear, 
creamy  skin,  soft  as  alabaster  below  the  red  gold  of  her 
hair,  the  somewhat  haughty  poise  of  her  small,  shapely 
head,  she  brought  him  vivid  recollections  of  that  old 
aristocracy  of  France,  as  one  reads  of  them  now  only  in 
the  pages  of  romance  or  history.  She  had  the  grand  air — 
even  the  great  Queen  could  not  have  walked  to  the  scaffold 
with  a  more  magnificent  contempt  of  the  rabble,  whose 
victim  she  was.  Some  more  personal  thought  came  to  him  ,• 


222  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

he  half  closed  his  eyes  and  leaned  back  in  his  chair  steeped 
in  pleasant  thoughts  ;  and  then  it  all  came  to  a  swift,  abrupt 
end,  these  reveries  and  pleasant  castle-building.  He  was 
back  in  the  present,  suddenly  recalled  in  a  most  extraordinary 
manner,  to  realisation  of  the  hour  and  place.  Surely  he 
could  not  have  been  mistaken  !  That  was  a  low  knocking 
at  his  locked  door  outside ;  there  was  no  doubt  about 
it.  There  it  was  again !  He  heard  his  own  name,  softly 
but  unmistakably  spoken  in  a  trembling  voice.  He  glanced 
at  his  watch,  it  was  between  two  and  three  o'clock ;  then  he 
walked  quickly  to  the  door  and  opened  it  without  hesitation. 
It  was  his  father  who  stood  there  fully  dressed,  with  pale 
face  and  angrily  burning  eyes.  In  his  hand  he  carried  a 
revolver.  Wolfenden  noticed  that  the  fingers  which  clasped 
it  were  shaking,  as  though  with  cold. 

"  Father,"  Wolfenden  exclaimed,  "  what  on  earth  is  the 
matter?" 

He  dropped  his  voice  in  obedience  to  that  sudden  gesture 
for  silence.  The  Admiral  answered  him  in  a  hoarse 
whisper. 

"  A  great  deal  is  the  matter !  I  am  being  deceived  and 
betrayed  in  my  own  house  !  Listen  ! " 

They  stood  together  on  the  dimly  lit  landing ;  holding 
his  breath  and  listening  intently,  Wolfenden  was  at  once 
aware  of  faint,  distant  sounds.  They  came  from  the  ground 
floor  almost  immediately  below  them.  His  father  laid  his 
hand  heavily  upon  Wolfenden's  shoulder. 

"  Some  one  is  in  the  library,"  he  said.  "  I  heard  the 
door  open  distinctly.  When  I  tried  to  get  out  I  found 
that  the  door  of  my  room  was  locked ;  there  is  treachery 
here ! " 

"  How  did  you  get  out  ?  "  Wolfenden  asked. 

"  Through  the  bath-room  and  down  the  back  stairs  ;  that 
door  was  locked  too,  but  I  found  a  key  that  fitted  it.  Come 
with  me.  Be  careful !  Make  no  noise  ! " 


A  MIDNIGHT  VISITOR  223 

They  were  on  their  way  downstairs  now.  As  they  turned 
the  angle  of  the  broad  oak  stairway,  Wolfenden  caught  a 
glimpse  of  his  father's  face,  and  shuddered ;  it  was  very 
white,  and  his  eyes  were  bloodshot  and  wild,  his  forefinger 
was  already  upon  the  trigger  of  his  revolver. 

"  Let  me  have  that,"  Wolfenden  whispered,  touching  it ; 
"  my  hand  is  steadier  than  yours." 

But  the  Admiral  shook  his  head ;  he  made  no  answer  in 
words,  but  the  butt  end  of  the  revolver  became  almost 
welded  into  the  palm  of  his  hand.  Wolfenden  began  to 
feel  that  they  were  on  the  threshold  of  a  tragedy.  They 
had  reached  the  ground  floor  now ;  straight  in  front  of  them 
was  the  library  door.  The  sound  of  muffled  movements 
within  the  room  was  distinctly  audible.  The  Admiral's 
breath  came  fast. 

"Tread  lightly,  Wolf,"  he  muttered.  "Don't  let  them 
hear  us  !  Let  us  catch  them  red-handed  ! " 

But  the  last  dozen  yards  of  the  way  was  over  white  flags 
tesselated,  and  polished  like  marble.  Wolfenden's  shoes 
creaked ;  the  Admiral's  tip-toe  walk  was  no  light  one. 
There  was  a  sudden  cessation  of  all  sounds  ;  they  had  been 
heard  !  The  Admiral,  with  a  low  cry  of  rage,  leaped  for- 
wards. Wolfenden  followed  close  behind. 

Even  as  they  crossed  the  threshold  the  room  was  plunged 
into  sudden  darkness;  they  had  but  a  momentary  and 
partial  glimpse  of  the  interior.  Wolfenden  saw  a  dark, 
slim  figure  bending  forward  with  his  finger  still  pressed  to 
the  ball  of  the  lamp.  The  table  was  strewn  with  papers, 
something — somebody — was  fluttering  behind  the  screen 
yonder.  There  was  barely  a  second  of  light ;  then  with  a 
sharp  click  the  lamp  went  out,  and  the  figure  of  the  man 
was  lost  in  obscurity.  Almost  simultaneously  there  came  a 
flash  of  level  fire  and  the  loud  report  of  the  Admiral's 
revolver.  There  was  no  groan,  so  Wolfenden  concluded 
that  the  man,  whoever  he  might  be,  had  not  been  hit 


224  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABM 

The  sound  of  the  report  was  followed  by  a  few  seconds' 
breathless  silence.  There  was  no  movement  of  any  sort  in 
the  room ;  only  a  faint  breeze  stealing  in  through  the  wide- 
open  windows  caused  a  gentle  rustling  of  the  papers  with 
which  the  table  was  strewn,  and  the  curtains  swayed  gently 
backwards  and  forwards.  The  Admiral,  with  his  senses  all 
on  the  alert,  stood  motionless,  the  revolver  tense  in  his 
hand,  his  fiercely  eager  eyes  straining  to  pierce  the  darkness. 
By  his  side,  Wolfenden,  equally  agitated  now,  though  from 
a  different  reason,  stood  holding  his  breath,  his  head  thrust 
forward,  his  eyes  striving  to  penetrate  the  veil  of  gloom  which 
lay  like  a  thick  barrier  between  him  and  the  screen.  His 
fear  had  suddenly  taken  to  itself  a  very  real  and  terrible  form. 
There  had  been  a  moment,  before  the  extinction  of  the 
lamp  had  plunged  the  room  into  darkness,  when  he  had 
seen,  or  fancied  that  he  had  seen,  a  woman's  skirts  fluttering 
there.  Up  to  the  present  his  father's  attention  had  been 
wholly  riveted  upon  the  other  end  of  the  room ;  yet  he 
was  filled  with  a  nervous  dread  lest  at  any  moment  that 
revolver  might  change  its  direction.  His  ears  were  strained 
to  the  uttermost  to  catch  the  slightest  sign  of  any  move- 
ment. 

At  last  the  silence  was  broken  ;  there  was  a  faint  move- 
ment near  the  window,  and  then  again,  without  a  second's 
hesitation,  there  was  that  level  line  of  fire  and  loud  report 
from  the  Admiral's  revolver.  There  was  no  groan,  no  sign 
of  any  one  having  been  hit.  The  Admiral  began  to  move 
slowly  in  the  direction  of  the  window ;  Wolfenden  remained 
where  he  was,  listening  intently.  He  was  right,  there  was  a 
smothered  movement  from  behind  the  screen.  Some  one 
was  moving  from  there  towards  the  door,  some  one  with 
light  footsteps  and  a  trailing  skirt.  He  drew  back  into  the 
doorway ;  he  meant  to  let  her  pass  whoever  it  might  be,  but 
he  meant  to  know  who  it  was.  He  could  hear  her  hurried 
breathing;  a  faint,  familiar  perfume,  shaken  out  by  the 


A  MIDNIGHT  VISITOR  225 

movement  of  her  skirts,  puzzled  him ;  it's  very  familiarity 
bewildered  him.  She  knew  that  he  was  there ;  she  must 
know  it,  for  she  had  paused.  The  position  was  terribly 
critical.  A  few  yards  away  the  Admiral  was  groping  about, 
revolver  in  hand,  mumbling  to  himself  a  string  of  terrible 
threats.  The  casting  of  a  shadow  would  call  forth  that 
death-dealing  fire.  Wolfenden  thrust  out  his  hand  cautiously ; 
it  fell  upon  a  woman's  arm.  She  did  not  cry  out,  although 
her  rapid  breathing  sank  almost  to  a  moan.  For  a  moment 
he  was  staggered — the  room  seemed  to  be  going  round  with 
him ;  he  had  to  bite  his  lips  to  stifle  the  exclamation  which 
very  nearly  escaped  him.  Then  he  stood  away  from  the 
door  with  a  little  shudder,  and  guided  her  through  it.  He 
heard  her  footsteps  die  away  along  the  corridor  with  a 
peculiar  sense  of  relief.  Then  he  thrust  his  hand  into 
the  pocket  of  his  dinner  coat  and  drew  out  a  box  of 
matches. 

"  I  am  going  to  strike  a  light,"  he  whispered  in  his  father's 
ear. 

"  Quick,  then,"  was  the  reply,  "  I  don't  think  the  fellow 
has  got  away  yet;  he  must  be  hiding  behind  some  of  the 
furniture." 

There  was  the  scratching  of  a  match  upon  a  silver  box,  a 
feeble  flame  gradually  developing  into  a  sure  illumination. 
Wolfenden  carefully  lit  the  lamp  and  raised  it  high  over  his 
head.  The  room  was  empty  !  There  was  no  doubt  about 
it !  They  two  were  alone.  But  the  window  was  wide  open 
and  a  chair  in  front  of  it  had  been  thrown  over.  The 
Admiral  strode  to  the  casement  and  called  out  angrily — 

"  Heggs  !  are  you  there  ?     Is  no  one  on  duty  ?  " 

There  was  no  answer ;  the  tall  sentry-box  was  empty. 

Wolfenden  came  over  to  his  father's  side  and  brought  the 
lamp  with  him,  and  together  they  leaned  out.  At  first  they 
could  see  nothing ;  then  Wolfenden  threw  off  the  shade 
from  the  lamp  and  the  light  fell  in  a  broad  track  upon 

15 


226  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

a  dark,  motionless  figure  stretched  out  upon  the  turf. 
Wolfenden  stooped  down  hastily. 

"  My  God  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  it  is  Heggs !  Father,  won't 
you  sound  the  gong  ?  We  shall  have  to  arouse  the  house." 

There  was  no  need.  Already  the  library  was  half  full  of 
hastily  dressed  servants,  awakened  by  the  sound  of  the 
Admiral's  revolver.  Pale  and  terrified,  but  never  more  self- 
composed,  Lady  Deringham  stepped  out  to  them  in  a  long, 
white  dressing-gown. 

"  What  has  happened  ?  "  she  cried.  "  Who  is  it,  Wolfen- 
den— has  your  father  shot  any  one  ?  " 

But  Wolfenden  shook  his  head,  as  he  stood  for  a  moment 
upright,  and  looked  into  his  mother's  face. 

"  There  is  a  man  hurt,"  he  said ;  "  it  is  Heggs,  I  think, 
but  he  is  not  shot.  The  evil  is  not  of  our  doing ! " 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

"IT  WAS  MR.    SABIN" 

IT  was  still  an  hour  or  two  before  dawn.  No  trace  whatever 
of  the  marauders  had  been  discovered  either  outside  the 
house  or  within.  With  difficulty  the  Earl  had  been  per- 
suaded to  relinquish  his  smoking  revolver,  and  had  retired 
to  his  room.  The  doors  had  all  been  locked,  and  two 
of  the  most  trustworthy  servants  left  in  charge  of  the  library. 
Wolfenden  had  himself  accompanied  his  father  upstairs  and 
after  a  few  words  with  him  had  returned  to  his  own  apart- 
ment. With  his  mother  he  had  scarcely  exchanged  a  single 
sentence.  Once  their  eyes  had  met  and  he  had  immediately 
looked  away.  Nevertheless  he  was  not  altogether  unpre- 
pared for  that  gentle  knocking  at  his  door  which  came 
about  half  an  hour  after  the  house  was  once  more 
silent. 

He  rose  at  once  from  his  chair — it  seemed  scarcely  a 
night  for  sleep — and  opened  it  cautiously.  It  was  Lady 
Deringham  who  stood  there,  white  and  trembling.  He 
held  out  his  hand  and  she  leaned  heavily  on  it  during  her 
passage  into  the  room. 

He  wheeled  his  own  easy  chair  before  the  fire  and  helped 
her  into  it.  She  seemed  altogether  incapable  of  speech. 

She  was  trembling  violently,  and  her  face  was  perfectly 

227 


228  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

bloodless.  Wolfenden  dropped  on  his  knees  by  her  side 
and  began  chafing  her  hands.  The  touch  of  his  fingers 
seemed  to  revive  her.  She  was  not  already  judged  then. 
She  lifted  her  eyes  and  looked  at  him  sorrowfully. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  me,  Wolfenden  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  have  not  thought  about  it  at  all,"  he  answered.  "  I 
am  only  wondering.  You  have  come  to  explain  every- 
thing?" 

She  shuddered.  Explain  everything !  That  was  a  task 
indeed.  When  the  heart  is  young  and  life  is  a  full  and 
generous  thing ;  in  the  days  of  romance,  when  adventures 
and  love-making  come  as  a  natural  heritage  and  form  part 
of  the  order  of  things,  then  the  words  which  the  woman  had 
to  say  would  have  come  lightly  enough  from  her  lips,  less 
perhaps  as  a  confession  than  as  a  half  apologetic  narration. 
But  in  the  days  when  youth  lies  far  behind,  when  its  glamour 
has  faded  away  and  nothing  but  the  bare  incidents  remain, 
unbeautified  by  the  full  colouring  and  exuberance  of  the 
springtime  of  life,  the  most  trifling  indiscretions  then  stand 
out  like  idiotic  crimes.  Lady  Deringham  had  been  a  proud 
woman — a  proud  woman  all  her  life.  She  had  borne  in 
society  the  reputation  of  an  almost  ultra-exclusiveness ; 
in  her  home  life  she  had  been  something  of  an  autocrat. 
Perhaps  this  was  the  most  miserable  moment  of  her  life. 
Her  son  was  looking  at  her  with  cold,  inquiring  eyes. 
She  was  on  her  defence  before  him.  She  bowed  her  head 
and  spoke : 

"  Tell  me  what  you  thought,  Wolfenden." 

"  Forgive  me,"  he  said,  "  I  could  only  think  that  there 
was  robbery,  and  that  you,  for  some  sufficient  reason,  I  am 
sure,  were  aiding.  I  could  not  think  anything  else,  could 
I?" 

"You  thought  what  was  true,  Wolfenden,"  she  whis- 
pered. "  I  was  helping  another  man  to  rob  your  father ! 
It  was  only  a  very  trifling  theft — a  handful  of  notes  from  his 


"IT  WAS  MR.  SABIN"  229 

work  for  a  magazine  article.  But  it  was  theft,  and  I  was  an 
accomplice ! " 

There  was  a  short  silence.  Her  eyes,  seeking  steadfastly 
to  read  his  face,  could  make  nothing  of  it. 

"  I  will  not  ask  you  why,"  he  said  slowly.  "  You  must 
have  had  very  good  reasons.  But  I  want  to  tell  you  one 
thing.  I  am  beginning  to  have  grave  doubts  as  to  whether 
my  father's  state  is  really  so  bad  as  Dr.  Whitlett  thinks — 
whether,  in  short,  his  work  is  not  after  all  really  of  some 
considerable  value.  There  are  several  considerations  which 
incline  me  to  take  this  view." 

The  suggestion  visibly  disturbed  Lady  Deringham.  She 
moved  in  her  chair  uneasily. 

"You  have  heard  what  Mr.  Blatherwick  says,"  she  ob- 
jected. "  I  am  sure  that  he  is  absolutely  trustworthy." 

"There  is  no  doubt  about  Blatherwick's  honesty,"  he 
admitted,  "  but  the  Admiral  himself  says  that  he  dare  trust 
no  one,  and  that  for  weeks  he  has  given  him  no  paper  of 
importance  to  work  upon  simply  for  that  reason.  It  has 
been  growing  upon  me  that  we  may  have  been  mistaken  all 
along,  that  very  likely  Miss  Merton  was  paid  to  steal  his 
work,  and  that  it  may  possess  for  certain  people,  and  for 
certain  purposes,  a  real  technical  importance.  How  else 
can  we  account  for  the  deliberate  efforts  which  have  been 
made  to  obtain  possession  of  it  ?  " 

"You  have  spent  some  time  examining  it  yourself," 
she  said  in  a  low  tone  ;  "  what  was  your  own  opinion  ?  " 

"  I  found  some  sheets,"  he  answered,  "  and  I  read  them 
very  carefully  ;  they  were  connected  with  the  various  land- 
ing-places upon  the  Suffolk  coast  An  immense  amount  of 
detail  was  very  clearly  given.  The  currents,  bays,  and 
fortifications  were  all  set  out ;  even  the  roads  and  railways 
into  the  interior  were  dealt  with.  I  compared  them  after- 
wards with  a  map  of  Suffolk.  They  were,  so  far  as  one 
could  judge,  correct.  Of  course  this  was  only  a  page  or 


230  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

two  at  random,  but  I  must  say  it  made  an  impression  upon 
me." 

There  was  another  silence,  this  time  longer  than  before. 
Lady  Deringham  was  thinking.  Once  more,  then,  the  man 
had  lied  to  her !  He  was  on  some  secret  business  of  his 
own.  She  shuddered  slightly.  She  had  no  curiosity  as  to 
its  nature.  Only  she  remembered  what  many  people  had 
told  her,  that  where  he  went  disaster  followed.  A  piece  of 
coal  fell  into  the  grate  hissing  from  the  fire.  He  stooped 
to  pick  it  up,  and  catching  a  glimpse  of  her  face  became 
instantly  graver.  He  remembered  that  as  yet  he  had 
heard  nothing  of  what  she  had  come  to  tell  him.  Her 
presence  in  the  library  was  altogether  unexplained. 

"  You  were  very  good,"  she  said  slowly ;  "  you  stayed 
what  might  have  been  a  tragedy.  You  knew  that  I  was 
there,  you  helped  me  to  escape ;  yet  you  must  have  known 
that  I  was  in  league  with  the  man  who  was  trying  to  steal 
those  papers." 

"  There  was  no  mistake,  then !  You  were  doing  that 
You!" 

"  It  is  true,"  she  answered.  "  It  was  I  who  let  him  in, 
who  unlocked  your  father's  desk.  I  was  his  accomplice  ! " 

"  Who  was  the  man  ?  " 

She  did  not  tell  him  at  once. 

"  He  was  once,"  she  said,  "  my  lover  !  " 

"  Before " 

"  Before  I  met  your  father !  We  were  never  really 
engaged.  But  he  loved  me,  and  I  thought  I  cared  for  him. 
I  wrote  him  letters — the  foolish  letters  of  an  impulsive  girl. 
These  he  has  kept.  I  treated  him  badly,  I  know  that ! 
But  I  too  have  suffered.  It  has  been  the  desire  of  my  life 
to  have  those  letters.  Last  night  he  called  here.  Before 
my  face  he  burnt  all  but  one  !  That  he  kept.  The  price 
of  his  returning  it  to  me  was  my  help — last  night." 

"  For  what  purpose  ?"  Wolfenden  asked.    "  What  use  did 


"  IT  WAS  MR.  SABIN  "  231 

he  propose  to  make  of  the  Admiral's  papers  if  he  succeeded 
in  stealing  them  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head  mournfully. 

"  I  cannot  tell.  He  answered  me  at  first  that  he  simply 
needed  some  statistics  to  complete  a  magazine  article,  and 
that  Mr.  C.  himself  had  sent  him  here.  If  what  you  tell 
me  of  their  importance  is  true,  I  have  no  doubt  that  he 
lied." 

"  Why  could  he  not  go  to  the  Admiral  himself?  " 

Lady  Deringham's  face  was  as  pale  as  death,  and  she 
spoke  with  downcast  head,  her  eyes  fixed  upon  her 
clenched  hands. 

"  At  Cairo,"  she  said,  "  not  long  after  my  marriage,  we 
all  met.  I  was  indiscreet,  and  your  father  was  hot-headed 
and  jealous.  They  quarrelled  and  fought,  your  father 
wounded  him;  he  fired  in  the  air.  You  understand  now 
that  he  could  not  go  direct  to  the  Admiral." 

"  I  cannot  understand,"  he  admitted,  "  why  you  listened 
to  his  proposal." 

"  Wolfenden,  I  wanted  that  letter,"  she  said,  her  voice 
dying  away  in  something  like  a  moan.  "  It  is  not  that  I 
have  anything  more  than  folly  to  reproach  myself  with,  but 
it  was  written — it  was  the  only  one — after  my  marriage.  Just 
at  first  I  was  not  very  happy  with  your  father.  We  had  had  a 
quarrel,  I  forget  what  about,  and  I  sat  down  and  wrote 
words  which  I  have  many  a  time  bitterly  repented  ever 
having  put  on  paper.  I  have  never  forgotten  them — I 
never  shall !  I  have  seen  them  often  in  my  happiest 
moments,  and  they  have  seemed  to  me  to  be  written  with 
letters  of  fire." 

"  You  have  it  back  now  ?    You  have  destroyed  it  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head  wearily. 

"  No,  I  was  to  have  had  it  when  he  had  succeeded ;  I 
had  not  let  him  in  five  minutes  when  you  disturbed  us." 

"  Tell  me  the  man's  name." 


232  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"Why?" 

"  I  will  get  you  the  letter." 

"  He  would  not  give  it  you.      You  could  not  make  him." 

Wolfenden's  eyes  flashed  with  a  sudden  fire. 

"  You  are  mistaken,"  he  said.  "  The  man  who  holds  for 
blackmail  over  a  woman's  head,  a  letter  written  twenty 
years  ago,  is  a  scoundrel !  I  will  get  that  letter  from  him. 
Tell  me  his  name  ! " 

Lady  Deringham  shuddered. 

"  VVolfenden,  it  would  bring  trouble  !  He  is  dangerous. 
Don't  ask  me.  At  least  I  have  kept  my  word  to  him.  It 
was  not  my  fault  that  we  were  disturbed.  He  will  not 
molest  me  now." 

"  Mother,  I  will  know  his  name  1 " 

"  I  cannot  tell  it  you  ! " 

"  Then  I  will  find  it  out ;  it  will  not  be  difficult.  I  will 
put  the  whole  matter  in  the  hands  of  the  police.  I  shall 
send  to  Scotland  Yard  for  a  detective.  There  are  marks 
underneath  the  window.  I  picked  up  a  man's  glove  upon 
the  library  floor.  A  clever  fellow  will  find  enough  to  work 
upon.  I  will  find  this  blackguard  for  myself,  and  the  law 
shall  deal  with  him  as  he  deserves." 

"  Wolfenden,  have  mercy  !  May  I  not  know  best  ? 
Are  my  wishes,  my  prayers,  nothing  to  you  ?  " 

"  A  great  deal,  mother,  yet  I  consider  myself  also  a  judge 
as  to  the  wisest  course  to  pursue.  The  plan  which  I  have 
suggested  may  clear  up  many  things.  It  may  bring  to  light 
the  real  object  of  this  man.  It  may  solve  the  mystery  of 
that  impostor,  Wilmot.  I  am  tired  of  all  this  uncertainty. 
We  will  have  some  daylight.  I  shall  telegraph  to-morrow 
morning  to  Scotland  Yard." 

"  Wolfenden,  I  beseech  you ! " 

"  So  also  do  I  beseech  you,  mother,  to  tell  me  that  man's 
name.  Great  heavens  !  " 

Wolfenden  sprang  suddenly  from  his  chair  with  startled 


"IT  WAS  MR.  SABIN"  233 

face.  An  idea,  slow  of  coming,  but  absolutely  convincing 
from  its  first  conception,  had  suddenly  flashed  home  to 
him.  How  could  he  have  been  so  blind?  He  stood 
looking  at  his  mother  in  fixed  suspense.  The  light  of  his 
knowledge  was  in  his  face,  and  she  saw  it.  She  had  been 
dreading  this  all  the  while. 

"  It  was  Mr.  Sabin  ! — the  man  who  calls  himself  Sabin  ! " 
A  little  moan  of  despair  crept  out  from  her  lips.     She 
covered  her  face  with  her  hands  and  sobbed. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

THE   GATHERING  OF  THE   WAR-STORM 

MR.  SABIN,  entering  his  breakfast-room  as  usual  at  ten 
o'clock  on  the  following  morning,  found,  besides  the  usual 
pile  of  newspapers  and  letters,  a  telegram,  which  had 
arrived  too  late  for  delivery  on  the  previous  evening.  He 
opened  it  in  leisurely  fashion  whilst  he  sipped  his  coffee. 
It  was  handed  in  at  the  Charing  Cross  Post  Office,  and 
was  signed  simply  "K.": — 

"Just  returned.  When  can  you  call  and  conclude 
arrangements?  Am  anxious  to  see  you.  Read  to-night's 
paper.— K." 

The  telegram  slipped  from  Mr.  Sabin's  fingers.  He  tore 
open  the  St.  James's  Gazette,  and  a  little  exclamation 
escaped  from  his  lips  as  he  saw  the  thick  black  type  which 
headed  the  principal  columns : — 

"EXTRAORDINARY  TELEGRAM  OF  THE  GER- 
MAN EMPEROR  TO  MOENIG! 

GERMAN  SYMPATHY  WITH  THE  REBELS! 
WARSHIPS  ORDERED  TO  DELAMERE  BAY! 

GREAT  EXCITEMENT  ON  THE  STOCK  EXCHANGE!" 
334 


THE  GATHERING  OF  THE  WAR-STORM         235 

Mr.  Sabin's  breakfast  remained  untasted.  He  read  every 
word  in  the  four  columns,  and  then  turned  to  the  other 
newspapers.  They  were  all  ablaze  with  the  news.  Eng- 
land's most  renowned  ally  had  turned  suddenly  against  her. 
Without  the  slightest  warning  the  fire-brand  of  war  had 
been  kindled,  and  waved  threateningly  in  our  very  faces. 
The  occasion  was  hopelessly  insignificant.  A  handful  of 
English  adventurers,  engaged  in  a  somewhat  rash  but 
plucky  expedition  in  a  distant  part  of  the  world,  had  met 
with  a  sharp  reverse.  In  itself  the  affair  was  nothing ;  yet 
it  bade  fair  to  become  a  matter  of  international  history. 
Ill-advised  though  they  may  have  been,  the  Englishmen 
carried  with  them  a  charter  granted  by  the  British  Govern- 
ment. There  was  no  secret  about  it — the  fact  was  perfectly 
understood  in  every  Cabinet  of  Europe.  Yet  the  German 
Emperor  had  himself  written  a  telegram  congratulating  the 
State  which  had  repelled  the  threatened  attack.  It  was 
scarcely  an  invasion — it  was  little  more  than  a  demonstration 
on  the  part  of  an  ill-treated  section  of  the  population! 
The  fact  that  German  interests  were  in  no  way  concerned — 
that  any  outside  interference  was  simply  a  piece  of  gratuitous 
impertinence — only  intensified  the  significance  of  the  inci- 
dent. A  deliberate  insult  had  been  offered  to  England; 
and  the  man  who  sat  there  with  the  paper  clenched  in  his 
hand,  whilst  his  keen  eyes  devoured  the  long  columns  of 
wonder  and  indignation,  knew  that  his  had  been  the  hand 
which  had  hastened  the  long-pent-up  storm.  He  drew 
a  little  breath  when  he  had  finished,  and  turned  to  his 
breakfast. 

"Is  Miss  Sabin  up  yet?"  he  asked  the  servant,  who 
waited  upon  him. 

The  man  was  not  certain,  but  withdrew  to  inquire.  He 
reappeared  almost  directly.  Miss  Sabin  had  been  up  for 
more  than  an  hour.  She  had  just  returned  from  a  walk, 
and  had  ordered  breakfast  to  be  served  in  her  room. 


236  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"Tell  her,"  Mr.  Sabin  directed,  "that  I  should  be 
exceedingly  obliged  if  she  would  take  her  coffee  with  me. 
I  have  some  interesting  news." 

The  man  was  absent  for  several  minutes.  Before  he 
returned  Helene  came  in.  Mr.  Sabin  greeted  her  with 
his  usual  courtesy  and  even  more  than  his  usual  cordiality. 

"You  are  missing  the  best  part  of  the  morning  with 
your  Continental  habits,"  she  exclaimed  brightly.  "  I  have 
been  out  on  the  cliffs  since  half-past  eight.  The  air  is 
delightful." 

She  threw  off  her  hat,  and  going  to  the  sideboard,  helped 
herself  to  a  cup  of  coffee.  There  was  a  becoming  flush 
upon  her  cheeks — her  hair  was  a  little  tossed  by  the  wind. 
Mr.  Sabin  watched  her  curiously. 

"You  have  not,  I  suppose,  seen  a  morning  paper — or 
rather  last  night's  paper  ?  "  he  remarked. 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  A  newspaper !  You  know  that  I  never  look  at  an 
English  one,"  she  answered.  "  You  wanted  to  see  me, 
Reynolds  said.  Is  there  any  news?" 

"There  is  great  news,"  he  answered.  "There  is  such 
news  that  by  sunset  to-day  war  will  probably  be  declared 
between  England  and  Germany  !  " 

The  flush  died  out  of  her  cheeks.  She  faced  him  pallid 
to  the  lips. 

"  It  is  not  possible ! "  she  exclaimed. 

"  So  the  whole  world  would  have  declared  a  week  ago ! 
As  a  matter  of  fact  it  is  not  so  sudden  as  we  imagine ! 
The  storm  has  been  long  brewing!  It  is  we  who  have 
been  blind.  A  little  black  spot  of  irritation  has  spread  and 
deepened  into  a  war-cloud." 

"  This  will  affect  us  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  For  us,"  he  answered,  "  it  is  a  triumph.  It  is  the 
end  of  our  schemes,  the  climax  of  our  desires.  When 
Knigenstein  came  to  me  I  knew  that  he  was  in  earnest, 


THE  GATHERING  OF  THE  WAR-STORM         237 

but  I  never  dreamed  that  the  torch  was  so  nearly  kindled. 
I  see  now  why  he  was  so  eager  to  make  terms  with  me." 

"  And  you,"  she  said,  "  you  have  their  bond  ?  " 

For  a  moment  he  looked  thoughtful. 

"  Not  yet.  I  have  their  promise — the  promise  of  the 
Emperor  himself.  But  as  yet  my  share  of  the  bargain  is 
incomplete.  There  must  be  no  more  delay.  It  must  be 
finished  now — at  once.  That  telegram  would  never  have 
been  sent  from  Berlin  but  for  their  covenant  with  me.  It 
would  have  been  better,  perhaps,  had  they  waited  a  little 
time.  But  one  cannot  tell!  The  opportunity  was  too 
good  to  let  slip." 

"  How  long  will  it  be,"  she  asked,  "  before  your  work  is 
complete  ?  " 

His  face  clouded  over.  In  the  greater  triumph  he  had 
almost  forgotten  the  minor  difficulties  of  the  present.  He 
was  a  diplomatist  and  a  schemer  of  European  fame.  He 
had  planned  great  things,  and  had  accomplished  them. 
Success  had  been  on  his  side  so  long  that  he  might  almost 
have  been  excused  for  declining  to  reckon  failure  amongst 
the  possibilities.  The  difficulty  which  was  before  him  now 
was  as  trifling  as  the  uprooting  of  a  hazel  switch  after  the 
conquest  of  a  forest  of  oaks.  But  none  the  less  for  the 
moment  he  was  perplexed.  It  was  hard,  in  the  face  of 
this  need  for  urgent  haste,  to  decide  upon  the  next  step. 

"  My  work,"  he  said  slowly,  "  must  be  accomplished  at 
once.  There  is  very  little  wanted.  Yet  that  little,  I  must 
confess,  troubles  me." 

"  You  have  not  succeeded,  then,  in  obtaining  what  you 
want  from  Lord  Deringham  ?  " 

"  No." 

"Will  he  not  help  you  at  all ?  " 

"  Never." 

"How,  then,  do  you  mean  to  get  at  these  papers  of 
his?" 


238  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SAtilN 

"  At  present,"  he  replied,  "  I  scarcely  know.  In  an  hour 
or  two  I  may  be  able  to  tell  you.  It  is  possible  that  it 
might  take  me  twenty-four  hours ;  certainly  no  longer  than 
that." 

She  walked  to  the  window,  and  stood  there  with  her 
hands  clasped  behind  her  back.  Mr.  Sabin  had  lit  a 
cigarette  and  was  smoking  it  thoughtfully. 

Presently  she  spoke  to  him. 

"You  will  get  them,"  she  said;  "yes,  I  believe  that. 
In  the  end  you  will  succeed,  as  you  have  succeeded  in 
everything." 

There  was  a  lack  of  enthusiasm  in  her  tone.  He  looked 
up  quietly,  and  flicked  the  ash  from  the  end  of  his  cigarette. 

"  You  are  right,"  he  said.  "  I  shall  succeed.  My  only 
regret  is  that  I  have  made  a  slight  miscalculation.  It  will 
take  longer  than  I  imagined.  Knigenstein  will  be  in  a 
fever,  and  I  am  afraid  that  he  will  worry  me.  At  the  same 
time  he  is  himself  to  blame.  He  has  been  needlessly 
precipitate." 

She  turned  away  from  the  window  and  stood  before  him. 
She  had  a  look  in  her  face  which  he  had  seen  there  but 
once  before,  and  the  memory  of  which  had  ever  since 
troubled  him. 

"I  want  you,"  she  said,  "to  understand  this.  I  will 
not  have  any  direct  harm  worked  upon  the  Deringhams. 
If  you  can  get  what  they  have  and  what  is  necessary  to  us 
by  craft — well,  very  good.  If  not,  it  must  go !  I  will 
not  have  force  used.  You  should  remember  that  Lord 
Wolfenden  saved  your  life !  I  will  have  nothing  to  do 
with  any  scheme  which  brings  harm  upon  them ! " 

He  looked  at  her  steadily.  A  small  spot  of  colour  was 
burning  high  up  on  his  pallid  cheeks.  The  white,  slender 
fingers,  toying  carelessly  with  one  of  the  breakfast  appoint- 
ments, were  shaking.  He  was  very  near  being  passionately 
angry. 


THE  GATHERING  OF  THE  WAR-STORM         239 

11  Do  you  mean,"  he  said,  speaking  slowly  and  enunciating 
every  word  with  careful  distinctness,  "  do  you  mean  that 
you  would  sacrifice  or  even  endanger  the  greatest  cause 
which  has  ever  been  conceived  in  the  heart  of  the  patriot, 
to  the  whole  skin  of  a  household  of  English  people?  I 
wonder  whether  you  realise  the  position  as  it  stands  at  this 
moment  I  am  bound  in  justice  to  you  to  believe  that  you 
do  not.  Do  you  realise  that  Germany  has  closed  with  our 
offer,  and  will  act  at  our  behest ;  that  only  a  few  trifling 
sheets  of  paper  stand  between  us  and  the  fullest,  the  most 
glorious  success  ?  Is  it  a  time,  do  you  think,  for  scruples 
or  for  maudlin  sentiment  ?  If  I  were  to  fail  in  my  obliga- 
tions towards  Knigenstein  I  should  not  only  be  dishonoured 
and  disgraced,  but  our  cause  would  be  lost  for  ever.  The 
work  of  many  years  would  crumble  into  ashes.  My  own 
life  would  not  be  worth  an  hour's  purchase.  Helene,  you 
are  mad  !  You  are  either  mad,  or  worse  ! " 

She  faced  him  quite  unmoved.  It  was  more  than  ever 
apparent  that  she  was  not  amongst  those  who  feared  him. 

"  I  am  perfectly  sane,"  she  said,  "  and  I  am  very  much 
in  earnest.  Our's  shall  be  a  strategic  victory,  or  we  will 
not  triumph  at  all.  I  believe  that  you  are  planning  some 
desperate  means  of  securing  those  papers.  I  repeat  that  I 
will  not  have  it ! " 

He  looked  at  her  with  curling  lips. 

"  Perhaps,"  he  said,  "  it  is  I  who  have  gone  mad !  At 
least  I  can  scarcely  believe  that  I  am  not  dreaming.  Is  it 
really  you,  Helene  of  Bourbon,  the  descendant  of  kings,  a 
daughter  of  the  rulers  of  France,  who  falters  and  turns  pale 
at  the  idea  of  a  little  blood,  shed  for  her  country's  sake  ?  I 
am  very  much  afraid,"  he  added  with  biting  sarcasm,  "that 
I  have  not  understood  you.  You  bear  the  name  of  a  great 
queen,  but  you  have  the  heart  of  a  serving-maid !  It  is 
Lord  Wolfenden  for  whom  you  fear  !  " 

She  was  not  less  firm,  but  her  composure  was  affected. 


240  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIM 

The  rich  colour  streamed  into  her  cheeks.     She  remained 
silent. 

"  For  a  betrothed  young  lady,"  he  said  slowly,  "  you  will 
forgive  me  if  I  say  that  your  anxiety  is  scarcely  discreet. 
What  you  require,  I  suppose,  is  a  safe  conduct  for  your 
lover.  I  wonder  how  Henri  would " 

She  flashed  a  glance  and  an  interjection  upon  him  which 
checked  the  words  upon  his  lips.  The  gesture  was  almost 
a  royal  one.  He  was  silenced. 

"  How  dare  you,  sir  ?  "  she  exclaimed.  "  You  are  taking 
insufferable  liberties.  I  do  not  permit  you  to  interfere  in 
my  private  concerns.  Understand  that  even  if  your  words 
were  true,  if  I  choose  to  have  a  lover  it  is  my  affair,  not 
yours.  As  for  Henri,  what  has  he  to  complain  of?  Read 
the  papers  and  ask  yourself  that !  They  chronicle  his 
doings  freely  enough  !  He  is  singularly  discreet,  is  he  not? 
— singularly  faithful !  " 

She  threw  at  him  a  glance  of  contempt  and  turned  as 
though  to  leave  the  room.  Mr.  Sabin,  recognising  the  fact 
that  the  situation  was  becoming  dangerous,  permitted  him- 
self no  longer  the  luxury  of  displaying  his  anger.  He 
was  quite  himself  again,  calm,  judicial,  incisive. 

"  Don't  go  away,  please,"  he  said.  "  I  am  sorry  that  you 
have  read  those  reports — more  than  sorry  that  you  should 
have  attached  any  particular  credence  to  them.  As  you 
know,  the  newspapers  always  exaggerate ;  in  many  of  the 
stories  which  they  tell  I  do  not  believe  that  there  is  a  single 
word  of  truth.  But  I  will  admit  that  Henri  has  not  been 
altogether  discreet.  Yet  he  is  young,  and  there  are  many 
excuses  to  be  made  for  him.  Apart  from  that,  the  whole 
question  of  his  behaviour  is  beside  the  question.  Your 
marriage  with  him  was  never  intended  to  be  one  of  affection. 
He  is  well  enough  in  his  way,  but  there  is  not  the  stuff 
in  him  to  make  a  man  worthy  of  your  love.  Your  alliance 
with  him  is  simply  a  necessary  link  in  the  chain  of  our  great 
undertaking.  Between  you  you  will  represent  the  two  royal 


THE  GATHERING  OF  THE  WAR-STORM         241 

families  of  France.     That  is  what  is  necessary.     You  must 
marry  him,  but  afterwards — well,  you  will  be  a  queen  ! " 

Again  he  had  erred.  She  looked  at  him  with  bent  brows 
and  kindling  eyes. 

"Oh!  you  are  hideously  cynical !"  she  exclaimed.  "I 
may  be  ambitious,  but  it  is  for  my  country's  sake.  If 
I  reign,  the  Court  of  France  shall  be  of  a  new  type;  we 
will  at  least  show  the  world  that  to  be  a  Frenchwoman 
is  not  necessarily  to  abjure  morals." 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  That,"  he  said,  "  will  be  as  you  choose.  You  will  make 
your  Court  what  you  please.  Personally,  I  believe  that  you 
are  right.  Such  sentiments  as  you  have  expressed,  properly 
conveyed  to  them,  would  make  yours  abjectly  half  the 
bourgeois  of  France !  Be  as  ambitious  as  you  please, 
but  at  least  be  sensible.  Do  not  think  any  more  of  this 
young  Englishman,  not  at  any  rate  at  present.  Nothing  but 
harm  can  come  of  it.  He  is  not  like  the  men  of  our  own 
country,  who  know  how  to  take  a  lady's  dismissal  gracefully." 

"  He  is,  at  least,  a  man  !  " 

"  Helene,  why  should  we  discuss  him  ?  He  shall  come  to 
no  harm  at  my  hands.  Be  wise,  and  forget  him.  He  can 
be  nothing  whatever  to  you.  You  know  that.  You  are 
pledged  to  greater  things." 

She  moved  back  to  her  place  by  the  window.  Her  eyes 
were  suddenly  soft,  her  face  was  sorrowful.  She  did  not 
speak,  and  he  feared  her  silence  more  than  her  indignation. 
When  a  knock  at  the  door  came  he  was  grateful  for  the 
interruption — grateful,  that  is,  until  he  saw  who  it  was  upon 
the  threshold.  Then  he  started  to  his  feet  with  a  little 
exclamation. 

"  Lord  Wolfenden  !    You  are  an  early  visitor." 

Wolfenden  smiled  grimly,  and  advanced  into  the  room. 

"  I  was  anxious,"  he  said,  "  to  run  no  risk  of  finding  you 
out  My  mission  is  not  altogether  a  pleasant  one  ! " 

16 


CHAPTER  XXXI 
"i  MAKE  NO  PROMISE" 

A  SINGLE  glance  from  Mr.  Sabin  into  Wolfenden's  face  was 
sufficient.  Under  his  breath  he  swore  a  small,  quiet  oath. 
Wolfenden's  appearance  was  unlocked  for,  and  almost  fatal, 
yet  that  did  not  prevent  him  from  greeting  his  visitor  with 
his  usual  ineffusive  but  well  bred  courtesy. 

"  I  am  finishing  a  late  breakfast,"  he  remarked.  "  Can  I 
offer  you  anything — a  glass  of  claret  or  Benedictine  ?  " 

Wolfenden  scarcely  heard  him,  and  answered  altogether 
at  random.  He  had  suddenly  become  aware  that  Helene 
was  in  the  room;  she  was  coming  towards  him  from  the 
window  recess,  with  a  brilliant  smile  upon  her  lips. 

"  How  very  kind  of  you  to  look  us  up  so  early  ! "  she 
exclaimed. 

Mr.  Sabin  smiled  grimly  as  he  poured  himself  out  a 
liqueur  and  lit  a  cigarette.  He  was  perfectly  well  aware 
that  Wolfenden's  visit  was  not  one  of  courtesy ;  a  single 
glance  into  his  face  had  told  him  all  that  he  cared  to  know. 
It  was  fortunate  that  Helene  had  been  in  the  room.  Every 
moment's  respite  he  gained  was  precious. 

"  Have  you  come  to  ask  me  to  go  for  a  drive  in  that 
wonderful  vehicle?"  she  said  lightly,  pointing  out  of  the 
window  to  where  his  dogcart  was  waiting.  "  I  should  want 
a  step-ladder  to  mount  it !  " 

Wolfenden  answered  her  gravely. 
242 


"/  MAKE  NO  PROMISE"  243 

"  I  should  feel  very  honoured  at  being  allowed  to  take 
you  for  a  drive  at  any  time,"  he  said,  "  only  I  think  that  I 
would  rather  bring  a  more  comfortable  carriage." 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders,  and  looked  at  him  signifi- 
cantly. 

"  The  one  you  were  driving  yesterday  ?  " 

He  bit  his  lip  and  frowned  with  vexation,  yet  on  the 
whole,  perhaps,  he  did  not  regret  her  allusion.  It  was 
proof  that  she  had  not  taken  the  affair  too  seriously. 

"  The  one  I  was  driving  yesterday  would  be  a  great  deal 
more  comfortable,"  he  said ;  "  to-day  I  only  thought  of 
getting  here  quickly.  I  have  a  little  business  with  Mr. 
Sabin." 

"  Is  that  a  hint  for  me  to  go  ?  "  she  asked.  "  You  are  not 
agreeable  this  morning  !  What  possible  business  can  you 
have  with  my  uncle  which  does  not  include  me  ?  I  am  not 
inclined  to  go  away  ;  I  shall  stay  and  listen." 

Mr.  Sabin  smiled  faintly  ;  the  girl  was  showing  her  sense 
now  at  any  rate.  Wolfenden  was  obviously  embarrassed. 
Helene  remained  blandly  unconscious  of  anything  serious. 

"  I  suppose,"  she  said,  "  that  you  want  to  talk  golf  again ! 
Golf!  Why  one  hears  nothing  else  but  golf  down  here. 
Don't  you  ever  shoot  or  ride  for  a  change  ?  " 

Wolfenden  was  suddenly  assailed  by  an  horrible  suspicion. 
He  could  scarcely  believe  that  her  unconsciousness  was 
altogether  natural.  At  the  bare  suspicion  of  her  being  in 
league  with  this  man  he  stiffened.  He  answered  without 
looking  at  her,  conscious  though  he  was  that  her  dark  eyes 
were  seeking  his  invitingly,  and  that  her  lips  were  curving 
into  a  smile. 

"I  am  not  thinking  of  playing  golf  to-day,"  he  said. 
Unfortunately  I  have  less  pleasant  things  to  consider.  If 
you  could  give  me  five  minutes,  Mr.  Sabin,"  he  added,  ' '  I 
should  be  very  glad." 

She  rose  immediately  with  all  the  appearance  of  being 


244  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SAB1N 

genuinely  offended ;  there  was  a  little  flush  in  her  cheeks 
and  she  walked  straight  to  the  door.  Wolfenden  held 
it  open  for  her. 

"  I  am  exceedingly  sorry  to  have  been  in  the  way  for 
a  moment,"  she  said  ;  "  pray  proceed  with  your  business  at 
once." 

Wolfenden  did  not  answer  her.  As  she  passed  through 
the  doorway  she  glanced  up  at  him  ;  he  was  not  even  look- 
ing at  her.  His  eyes  were  fixed  upon  Mr.  Sabin.  The 
fingers  which  rested  upon  the  door  knob  seemed  twitching 
with  impatience  to  close  it.  She  stood  quite  still  for  a 
moment ;  the  colour  left  her  cheeks,  and  her  eyes  grew  soft. 
She  was  not  angry  any  longer.  Instinctively  some  idea  of 
the  truth  flashed  in  upon  her ;  she  passed  out  thoughtfully. 
Wolfenden  closed  the  door  and  turned  to  Mr.  Sabin. 

"You  can  easily  imagine  the  nature  of  my  business,"  he 
said  coldly.  "  I  have  come  to  have  an  explanation  with 
you." 

Mr.  Sabin  lit  a  fresh  cigarette  and  smiled  on  Wolfenden 
thoughtfully. 

"  Certainly,"  he  said  ;  "  an  explanation  !     Exactly ! " 

"  Well,"  said  Wolfenden,  "  suppose  you  commence, 
then." 

Mr.  Sabin  looked  puzzled. 

"  Had  you  not  better  be  a  little  more  explicit  ? "  he 
suggested  gently. 

"  I  will  be,"  Wolfenden  replied,  "  as  explicit  as  you 
choose.  My  mother  has  given  me  her  whole  confidence. 
I  have  come  to  ask  how  you  dare  to  enter  Deringham  Hall 
as  a  common  burglar  attempting  to  commit  a  theft ;  and  to 
demand  that  you  instantly  return  to  me  a  letter,  on  which 
you  have  attempted  to  levy  blackmail.  Is  that  explicit 
enough  ?  " 

Mr.  Sabin's  face  did  not  darken,  nor  did  he  seem  in  any 
way  angry  or  discomposed.  He  puffed  at  his  cigarette  for 


"I  MAKE  NO  PROMISE''  245 

a  moment  or  two,  and  then  looked  blandly  across  at  his 
visitor. 

"  You  are  talking  rubbish,"  he  said  in  his  usual  calm, 
even  tones,  "  but  you  are  scarcely  to  blame.  It  is  alto- 
gether my  own  fault.  It  is  quite  true  that  I  was  in  your 
house  last  night,  but  it  was  at  your  mother's  invitation,  and 
I  should  very  much  have  preferred  coming  openly  at  the 
usual  time,  to  sneaking  in  according  to  her  directions 
through  a  window.  It  was  only  a  very  small  favour  I 
asked,  but  Lady  Deringham  persuaded  me  that  your  father's 
mental  health  and  antipathy  to  strangers  was  such  that  he 
would  never  give  me  the  information  I  desired,  voluntarily, 
and  it  was  entirely  at  her  suggestion  that  I  adopted  the 
means  I  did.  I  am  very  sorry  indeed  that  I  allowed 
myself  to  be  over  persuaded  and  placed  in  an  undoubtedly 
false  position.  Women  are  always  nervous  and  imaginative, 
and  I  am  convinced  that  if  I  had  gone  openly  to  your 
father  and  laid  my  case  before  him  he  would  have  helped 
me." 

"  He  would  have  done  nothing  of  the  sort !  "  Wolfenden 
declared.  "  Nothing  would  induce  him  to  show  even  a 
portion  of  his  work  to  a  stranger." 

Mr.  Sabin  shrugged  his  shoulders  gently,  and  continued 
without  heeding  the  interruption. 

"As  to  my  blackmailing  Lady  Deringham,  you  have 
spoken  plainly  to  me,  and  you  must  forgive  me  for  answer- 
ing you  in  the  same  fashion.  It  is  a  lie  !  I  had  letters  of 
hers,  which  I  voluntarily  destroyed  in  her  presence ;  they 
were  only  a  little  foolish,  or  I  should  have  destroyed  them 
long  ago.  I  had  the  misfortune  to  be  once  a  favoured 
suitor  for  your  mother's  hand ;  and  I  think  I  may  venture 
to  say — I  am  sure  she  will  not  contradict  me — that  I  was 
hardly  treated.  The  only  letter  I  ever  had  from  her  likely 
to  do  her  the  least  harm  I  destroyed  fifteen  years  ago, 
when  I  first  embarked  upon  what  has  been  to  a  certain 


246  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

extent  a  career  of  adventure.  I  told  her  that  it  was  not  in 
the  packet  which  we  burnt  together  yesterday.  If  she 
understood  from  that  that  it  was  still  in  my  possession,  and 
that  I  was  retaining  it  for  any  purpose  whatever,  she  was 
grievously  mistaken  in  my  words.  That  is  all  I  have  to  say." 

He  had  said  it  very  well  indeed.  Wolfenden,  listening 
intently  to  every  word,  with  his  eyes  rigidly  fixed  upon  the 
man's  countenance,  could  not  detect  a  single  false  note 
anywhere.  He  was  puzzled.  Perhaps  his  mother  had  been 
nervously  excited,  and  had  mistaken  some  sentence  of  his 
for  a  covert  threat.  Yet  he  thought  of  her  earnestness,  her 
terrible  earnestness,  and  a  sense  of  positive  bewilderment 
crept  over  him. 

"  We  will  leave  my  mother  out  of  the  question  then,"  he 
said.  "We  will  deal  with  this  matter  between  ourselves. 
I  should  like  to  know  exactly  what  part  of  my  father's  work 
you  are  so  anxious  to  avail  yourself  of,  and  for  what 
purpose  ?  " 

Mr.  Sabin  drew  a  letter  from  his  pocket,  and  handed  it 
over  to  Wolfenden.  It  was  from  the  office  of  one  of  the 
first  European  Reviews,  and  briefly  contained  a  request  that 
Mr.  Sabin  would  favour  them  with  an  article  on  the  com- 
parative naval  strengths  of  European  Powers,  with  particular 
reference  to  the  armament  and  coast  defences  of  Great 
Britain.  Wolfenden  read  it  carefully  and  passed  it  back. 
The  letter  was  genuine,  there  was  no  doubt  about  that. 

"  It  seemed  to  me,"  Mr.  Sabin  continued,  "  the  most 
natural  thing  in  the  world  to  consult  your  father  upon 
certain  matters  concerning  which  he  is,  or  has  been,  a 
celebrated  authority.  In  fact  I  decided  to  do  so  at  the 
instigation  of  one  of  the  Lords  of  your  Admiralty,  to  whom 
he  is  personally  well  known.  I  had  no  idea  of  acting 
except  in  the  most  open  manner,  and  I  called  at  Deringham 
Hall  yesterday  afternoon,  and  sent  in  my  card  in  a  perfectly 
orthodox  way:  as  you  may  have  heard.  Your  mother  took 


"/  MAKE  NO  PROMISE"  247 

quite  an  unexpected  view  of  the  whole  affair,  owing  partly 
to  your  father's  unfortunate  state  of  health  and  partly  to 
some  extraordinary  attempts  which,  I  am  given  to  under- 
stand, have  been  made  to  rob  him  of  his  work.  She  was 
very  anxious  to  help  me,  but  insisted  that  it  must  be 
secretly.  Last  night's  business  was,  I  admit,  a  ghastly 
mistake — only  it  was  not  my  mistake !  I  yielded  to  Lady 
Deringham's  proposals  under  strong  protest.  As  a  man, 
I  think  I  may  say  of  some  intelligence,  I  am  ashamed  of 
the  whole  affair ;  at  the  same  time  I  am  guilty  only  of  an 
indiscretion  which  was  sanctioned  and  instigated  by  your 
mother.  I  really  do  not  see  how  I  can  take  any  blame  to 
myself  in  the  matter." 

"You  could  scarcely  attribute  to  Lady  Deringham," 
Wolfenden  remarked,  "the  injury  to  the  watchman." 

"I  can  take  but  little  blame  to  myself,"  Mr.  Sabin 
answered  promptly.  "  The  man  was  drunk  ;  he  had  been, 
I  imagine,  made  drunk,  and  I  merely  pushed  him  out  of 
the  way.  He  fell  heavily,  but  the  fault  was  not  mine. 
Look  at  my  physique,  and  remember  that  I  was  unarmed, 
and  ask  yourself  what  mischief  I  could  possibly  have  done 
to  the  fellow." 

Wolfenden  reflected. 

"  You  appear  to  be  anxious,"  he  said,  "  to  convince  me 
that  your  desire  to  gain  access  to  a  portion  of  my  father's 
papers  is  a  harmless  one.  I  should  like  to  ask  you  why 
you  have  in  your  employ  a  young  lady  who  was  dismissed 
from  Deringham  Hall  under  circumstances  of  strong 
suspicion  ?  " 

Mr.  Sabin  raised  his  eyebrows. 

"  It  is  the  first  time  I  have  heard  of  anything  suspicious 
connected  with  Miss  Merton,"  he  said.  "She  came  into 
my  service  with  excellent  testimonials,  and  I  engaged  her 
at  Willing's  bureau.  The  fact  that  she  had  been  employed 
at  Deringham  Hall  was  merely  a  coincidence." 


248  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"  Was  it  also  a  coincidence,"  Wolfenden  continued,  "  that 
in  reply  to  a  letter  attempting  to  bribe  my  father's  secretary, 
Mr.  Blatherwick,  it  was  she,  Miss  Merton,  who  kept  an 
appointment  with  him?" 

"  That,"  Mr.  Sabin  answered,  "  I  know  nothing  of.  If 
you  wish  to  question  Miss  Merton  you  are  quite  at  liberty 
to  do  so ;  I  will  send  for  her." 

Wolfenden  shook  his  head. 

"  Miss  Merton  was  far  too  clever  to  commit  herself,"  he 
said ;  "  she  knew  from  the  first  that  she  was  being  watched, 
and  behaved  accordingly.  If  she  was  not  there  as  your 
agent,  her  position  becomes  more  extraordinary  still." 

"  I  can  assure  you,"  Mr.  Sabin  said,  with  an  air  of 
weariness,  "that  I  am  not  the  man  of  mystery  you  seem 
to  think  me.  I  should  never  dream  of  employing  such 
roundabout  means  for  gaining  possession  of  a  few  statistics." 

Wolfenden  was  silent.  His  case  was  altogether  one  of 
surmises;  he  could  prove  nothing. 

"  Perhaps,"  he  said,  "  I  have  been  precipitate.  It  would 
appear  so.  But  if  I  am  unduly  suspicious,  you  have  your- 
self only  to  blame  !  You  admit  that  your  name  is  an 
assumed  one.  You  refuse  my  suit  to  your  niece  without 
any  reasonable  cause.  You  are  evidently,  to  be  frank,  a 
person  of  much  more  importance  than  you  lay  claim  to  be. 
Now  be  open  with  me.  If  there  is  any  reason,  although 
I  cannot  conceive  an  honest  one,  for  concealing  your 
identity,  why,  I  will  respect  your  confidence  absolutely. 
You  may  rely  upon  that.  Tell  me  who  you  are,  and  who 
your  niece  is,  and  why  you  are  travelling  about  in  this 
mysterious  way." 

Mr.  Sabin  smiled  good-humouredly. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  you  must  forgive  me  if  I  plead  guilty 
to  the  false  identity — and  preserve  it.  For  certain  reasons 
it  would  not  suit  me  to  take  even  you  into  my  confidence. 
Besides  which,  if  you  will  forgive  my  saying  so,  there  does 


"/  MAKE  NO  PROMISE"  249 

not  seem  to  be  the  least  necessity  for  it.  We  are  leaving 
here  during  the  week,  and  shall  in  all  probability  go  abroad 
almost  at  once ;  so  we  are  not  likely  to  meet  again.  Let 
us  part  pleasantly,  and  abandon  a  somewhat  profitless 
discussion." 

For  a  moment  Wolfenden  was  staggered.  They  were 
leaving  England !  Going  away !  That  meant  that  he 
would  see  no  more  of  Helene.  His  indignation  against 
the  man,  kindled  almost  into  passionate  anger  by  his 
mother's  story,  was  forgotten,  overshadowed  by  a  keen  thrill 
of  personal  disappointment.  If  they  were  really  leaving 
England,  he  might  bid  farewell  to  any  chance  of  winning 
her ;  and  there  were  certain  words  of  hers,  certain  gestures, 
which  had  combined  to  fan  that  little  flame  of  hope,  which 
nothing  as  yet  had  ever  been  able  to  extinguish.  He 
looked  into  Mr.  Sabin's  quiet  face,  and  he  was  conscious 
of  a  sense  of  helplessness.  The  man  was  too  strong  and 
too  wily  for  him ;  it  was  an  unequal  contest. 

"We  will  abandon  the  discussion  then,  if  you  will," 
Wolfendon  said  slowly.  "  I  will  talk  with  Lady  Deringham 
again.  She  is  in  an  extremely  nervous  state ;  it  is  possible 
of  course  that  she  may  have  misunderstood  you." 

Mr.  Sabin  sighed  with  an  air  of  gentle  relief.  Ah  !  if 
the  men  of  other  countries  were  only  as  easy  to  delude  as 
these  Englishmen !  What  a  triumphant  career  might  yet 
be  his ! 

"  I  am  very  glad,"  he  said,  "  that  you  do  me  the  honour 
to  take,  what  I  can  assure  you,  is  the  correct  view  of  the 
situation.  I  hope  that  you  will  not  hurry  away  ;  may  I  not 
offer  you  a  cigarette  ?  " 

Wolfenden  sat  down  for  the  first  time. 

"Are  you  in  earnest,"  he  asked,  "when  you  speak  of 
leaving  England  so  soon  ?  " 

"  Assuredly  !  You  will  do  me  the  justice  to  admit  that  I 
have  never  pretended  to  like  your  country,  have  I  ?  I  hope 


250  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

to  leave  it  for  several  years,  if  not  for  ever,  within  the  course 
of  a  few  weeks." 

"  And  your  niece,  Mr.  Sabin  ?  " 

"  She  accompanies  me,  of  course ;  she  likes  this  country 
even  less  than  I  do.  Perhaps,  under  the  circumstances,  our 
departure  is  the  best  thing  that  could  happen  ;  it  is  at  any 
rate  opportune." 

"  I  cannot  agree  with  you,"  Wolfenden  said ;  "  for  me  it  is 
most  inopportune.  I  need  scarcely  say  that  I  have  not 
abandoned  my  desire  to  make  your  niece  my  wife." 

"  I  should  have  thought,"  Mr.  Sabin  said,  with  a  fine  note 
of  satire  in  his  tone,  "  that  you  would  have  put  far  away 
from  you  all  idea  of  any  connection  with  such  suspicious 
personages." 

"  I  have  never  had,"  Wolfenden  said  calmly,  "  any  sus- 
picion at  all  concerning  your  niece." 

"  She  would  be,  I  am  sure,  much  flattered,"  Mr.  Sabin 
declared.  "  At  the  same  time  I  can  scarcely  see  on  what 
grounds  you  continue  to  hope  for  an  impossibility.  My 
niece's  refusal  seemed  to  me  explicit  enough,  especially 
when  coupled  with  my  own  positive  prohibition." 

"  Your  niece,"  Wolfenden  said,  "  is  doubtless  of  age.  I 
should  not  trouble  about  your  consent  if  I  could  gain  hers, 
and  I  may  as  well  tell  you  at  once,  that  I  by  no  means 
despair  of  doing  so." 

Mr.  Sabin  bit  his  lip,  and  his  dark  eyes  flashed  out  with  a 
sudden  fire. 

"  I  should  be  glad  to  know,  sir,"  he  said,  "  on  what 
grounds  you  consider  my  voice  in  the  affair  to  be  in- 
effective ?  " 

"  Partly,"  Wolfenden  answered,  "  for  the  reason  which  I 
have  already  given  you — because  your  niece  is  of  age ;  and 
partly  also  because  you  persist  in  giving  me  no  definite 
reason  for  your  refusal." 

"I  have  told   you   distinctly,"   Mr,    Sabin   said,   "that 


"  I  MAKE  NO  PROMISE"  251 

my  niece   is   betrothed  and  will   be   married   within   six 
months." 

"To  whom?  where  is  he?  why  is  he  not  here?  Your 
niece  wears  no  engagement  ring.  I  will  answer  for  it,  that 
if  she  is  as  you  say  betrothed,  it  is  not  of  her  own  free 
will." 

"  You  talk,"  Mr.  Sabin  said  with  dangerous  calm,  "  like  a 
fool.  It  is  not  customary  amongst  the  class  to  which  my 
niece  belongs  to  wear  always  an  engagement  ring.  As  for 
her  affections,  she  has  had,  I  am  glad  to  say,  a  sufficient  self- 
control  to  keep  them  to  herself.  Your  presumption  is 
simply  the  result  of  your  entire  ignorance.  I  appeal  to 
you  for  the  last  time,  Lord  Wolfenden,  to  behave  like  a 
man  of  common  sense,  and  abandon  hopes  which  can  only 
end  in  disappointment." 

"  I  have  no  intention  of  doing  anything  of  the  sort," 
Wolfenden  said  doggedly;  "we  Englishmen  are  a  pig- 
headed race,  as  you  were  once  polite  enough  to  observe. 
Your  niece  is  the  only  woman  whom  I  have  wished  to 
marry,  and  I  shall  marry  her,  if  I  can." 

"  I  shall  make  it  my  especial  concern,"  Mr.  Sabin  said 
firmly,  "  to  see  that  all  intercourse  between  you  ends  at 
once." 

Wolfenden  rose  to  his  feet. 

"  It  is  obviously  useless,"  he  said,  "  to  continue  this  con- 
versation. I  have  told  you  my  intentions.  I  shall  pursue 
them  to  the  best  of  my  ability.  Good  morning." 

Mr.  Sabin  held  out  his  hand. 

"  I  have  just  a  word  more  to  say  to  you,"  he  declared. 
"  It  is  about  your  father." 

"  I  do  not  desire  to  discuss  my  father,  or  any  other 
matter  with  you,"  Wolfenden  said  quietly.  "  As  to  my 
father's  work,  I  am  determined  to  solve  the  mystery  con- 
nected with  it  once  and  for  all.  I  have  wired  for  Mr. 
C.  to  come  down,  and,  if  necessary,  take  possession  of 


25*  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

the  papers.  You  can  get  what  information  you  require 
from  him  yourself." 

Mr.  Sabin  rose  up  slowly  ;  his  long,  white  fingers  were 
clasped  around  the  head  of  that  curious  stick  of  his.  There 
was  a  peculiar  glint  in  his  eyes,  and  his  cheeks  were  pale 
with  passion. 

"  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  telling  me  that,"  he 
said ;  "  it  is  valuable  information  for  me.  I  will  certainly 
apply  to  Mr.  C." 

He  had  been  drawing  nearer  and  nearer  to  Wolfenden. 
Suddenly  he  stopped,  and,  with  a  swift  movement,  raised 
the  stick  on  which  he  had  been  leaning,  over  his  head.  It 
whirled  round  in  a  semi-circle.  Wolfenden,  fascinated  by 
that  line  of  gleaming  green  light,  hesitated  for  a  moment, 
then  he  sprang  backwards,  but  he  was  too  late.  The  head 
of  the  stick  came  down  on  his  head,  his  upraised  arm  did 
little  to  break  the  force  of  the  blow.  He  sank  to  the 
ground  with  a  smothered  groan. 


"  He  sank  to  the  ground  with  a  smothered  groan." 


{.Page  252. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

THE   SECRET   OF   MR.    SABIN's   NIECE 

AT  the  sound  of  his  cry,  Helene,  who  had  been  crossing 
the  hall,  threw  open  the  door  just  as  Mr.  Sabin's  fingers 
were  upon  the  key.  Seeing  that  he  was  powerless  to  keep 
from  her  the  knowledge  of  what  had  happened,  he  did  not 
oppose  her  entrance.  She  glided  into  the  centre  of  the 
room  with  a  stifled  cry  of  terror.  Together,  she  and  Mr. 
Sabin  bent  over  Wolfenden's  motionless  figure.  Mr.  Sabin 
unfastened  the  waistcoat  and  felt  his  heart.  She  did  not 
speak  until  he  had  held  his  hand  there  for  several  seconds, 
then  she  asked  a  question. 

"  Have  you  killed  him  ?  " 

Mr.  Sabin  shook  his  head  and  smiled  gently. 

"  Too  tough  a  skull  by  far,"  he  said.  "  Can  you  get  a 
basin  and  a  towel  without  any  one  seeing  you  ?  " 

She  nodded,  and  fetched  them  from  her  own  room.  The 
water  was  fresh  and  cold,  and  the  towel  was  of  fine  linen 
daintily  hemmed,  and  fragrant  with  the  perfume  of  violets. 
Yet  neither  of  these  things,  nor  the  soft  warmth  of  her 
breathing  upon  his  cheek,  seemed  to  revive  him  in  the 
least.  He  lay  quite  still  in  the  same  heavy  stupor.  Mr. 
Sabin  stood  upright  and  looked  at  him  thoughtfully.  His 
face  had  grown  almost  haggard. 

"We  had  better  send  for  a  doctor,"  she  whispered 
fiercely.  "  I  shall  fetch  one  myself  if  you  do  not ! " 

253 


254  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

Mr.  Sabin  gently  dissented. 

"  I  know  quite  as  much  as  any  doctor,"  he  said ;  "  the 
man  is  not  dead,  or  dying,  or  likely  to  die.  I  wonder  if  we 
could  move  him  on  to  that  sofa !  " 

Together  they  managed  it  somehow.  Mr.  Sabin,  in  the 
course  of  his  movements  to  and  fro  about  the  room,  was 
attracted  by  the  sight  of  the  dogcart  still  waiting  outside. 
He  frowned,  and  stood  for  a  moment  looking  thoughtfully 
at  it.  Then  he  went  outside. 

"  Are  you  waiting  for  Lord  Wolfenden  ?  "  he  asked  the 
groom. 

The  man  looked  up  in  surprise. 

"  Yes,  sir.  I  set  him  down  here  nearly  an  hour  ago.  I 
had  no  orders  to  go  home." 

"  Lord  Wolfenden  has  evidently  forgotten  all  about  you," 
Mr.  Sabin  said.  "  He  left  by  the  back  way  for  the  golf 
course,  and  I  am  going  to  join  him  there  directly.  He  is 
not  coming  back  here  at  all.  You  had  better  go  home,  1 
should  think." 

The  man  touched  his  hat. 

"Very  good,  sir." 

There  was  a  little  trampling  up  of  the  gravel,  and  Wolfen- 
den's  dogcart  rapidly  disappeared  in  the  distance.  Mr.  Sabin, 
with  set  face  and  a  hard  glitter  in  his  eyes  went  back  into 
the  morning  room.  Helene  was  still  on  her  knees  by 
Wolfenden's  prostrate  figure  when  he  entered.  She  spoke 
to  him  without  looking  up. 

"  He  is  a  little  better,  I  think ;  he  opened  his  eyes  just 
now." 

"  He  is  not  seriously  hurt,"  Mr.  Sabin  said  ;  "  there  may 
be  some  slight  concussion,  nothing  more.  The  question  is, 
first,  what  to  do  with  him,  and  secondly,  how  to  make  the 
best  use  of  the  time  which  must  elapse  before  he  will  be  well 
enough  to  go  home." 

She  looked  at  him  now  in  horror.     He  was  always  like 


THE  SECRET  OF  MR.  SABIN'S  NIECE  255 

this,  unappalled  by  anything  which  might  happen,  eager 
only  to  turn  every  trick  of  fortune  to  his  own  ends.  Surely 
his  nerves  were  of  steel  and  his  heart  of  iron. 

"I  think,"  she  said,  "that  I  should  first  make  sure  that 
he  is  likely  to  recover  at  all." 

Mr.  Sabin  answered  mechanically,  his  thoughts  seemed 
far  away. 

"  His  recovery  is  a  thing  already  assured,"  he  said.  "His 
skull  was  too  hard  to  crack ;  he  will  be  laid  up  for  an  hour 
or  two.  What  I  have  to  decide  is  how  to  use  that  hour  or 
two  to  the  best  possible  advantage." 

She  looked  away  from  him  and  shuddered.  This  pas- 
sionate absorption  of  all  his  energies  into  one  channel  had 
made  a  fiend  of  the  man.  Her  slowly  growing  purpose  took 
to  itself  root  and  branch,  as  she  knelt  by  the  side  of  the 
young  Englishman,  who  only  a  few  moments  ago  had  seemed 
the  very  embodiment  of  all  manly  vigour. 

Mr.  Sabin  stood  up.     He  had  arrived  at  a  determination. 

"Helene,"  he  said,  "I  am  going  away  for  an  hour, 
perhaps  two.  "  Will  you  take  care  of  him  until  I  re- 
turn?" 

"  Yes." 

"  You  will  promise  not  to  leave  him,  or  to  send  for  a 
doctor  ?  " 

"  I  will  promise,  unless  he  seems  to  grow  worse." 

"  He  will  not  get  worse,  he  will  be  conscious  in  less  than 
an  hour.  Keep  him  with  you  as  long  as  you  can,  he  will  be 
safer  here.  Remember  that ! " 

"  I  will  remember,"  she  said. 

He  left  the  room,  and  soon  she  heard  the  sound  of 
carriage  wheels  rolling  down  the  avenue.  His  departure 
was  an  intense  relief  to  her.  She  watched  the  carriage, 
furiously  driven,  disappear  along  the  road.  Then  she 
returned  to  Wolfenden's  side.  For  nearly  an  hour  she 
remained  there,  bathing  his  head,  forcing  now  and  then 


256  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SAB1N 

a  little  brandy  between  his  teeth,  and  watching  his  breathing 
become  more  regular  and  the  ghastly  whiteness  leaving  his 
face.  And  all  the  while  she  was  thoughtful.  Once  or  twice 
her  hands  touched  his  hair  tenderly,  almost  caressingly. 
There  was  a  certain  wistfulness  in  her  regard  of  him.  She 
bent  close  over  his  face ;  he  was  still  apparently  as  uncon- 
scious as  ever.  She  hesitated  for  a  moment ;  the  red  colour 
burned  in  one  bright  spot  on  her  cheeks.  She  stooped 
down  and  kissed  him  on  the  forehead,  whispering  something 
under  her  breath.  Almost  before  she  could  draw  back, 
he  opened  his  eyes.  She  was  overwhelmed  with  confusion, 
but  seeing  that  he  had  no  clear  knowledge  of  what  had 
happened,  she  rapidly  recovered  herself.  He  looked  around 
him  and  then  up  into  her  face. 

"  What  has  happened  ?  "  he  asked.     "  Where  am  I  ?  " 

"  You  are  at  the  Lodge,"  she  said  quietly.  "  You  called 
to  see  Mr.  Sabin  this  morning,  you  know,  and  I  am  afraid 
you  must  have  quarrelled." 

"Ah!  it  was  that  beastly  stick,"  he  said  slowly.  "He 
struck  at  me  suddenly.  Where  is  he  now  ?  " 

She  did  not  answer  him  at  once.  It  was  certainly  better 
not  to  say  that  she  had  seen  him  driven  rapidly  away  only  a 
short  time  ago,  with  his  horses'  heads  turned  to  Deringham 
Hall. 

"  He  will  be  back  soon,"  she  said.  "  Do  not  think  about 
him,  please.  I  cannot  tell  you  how  sorry  I  am." 

He  was  recovering  himself  rapidly.  Something  in  her 
eyes  was  sending  the  blood  warmly  through  his  veins ;  he 
felt  better  every  instant. 

"  I  do  not  want  to  think  about  him,"  he  murmured,  "  I 
do  not  want  to  think  about  any  one  else  but  you." 

She  looked  down  at  him  with  a  half  pathetic,  half 
humorous  twitching  of  her  lips. 

"  You  must  please  not  make  love  to  me,  or  I  shall  have 
to  leave  you,"  she  said.  "  The  idea  of  thinking  about  such 


THE  SECRET  OF  MR.  SABWS  NIECE  257 

a  thing  in  your  condition!  You  don't  want  to  send  me 
away,  do  you?" 

"  On  the  contrary,"  he  answered,  "  I  want  to  keep  you 
always  with  me." 

"That,"  she  said  briefly,  "is  impossible." 

"Nothing,"  he  declared,  "is  impossible,  if  only  we  make 
up  our  minds  to  it.  I  have  made  up  mine! " 

"  You  are  very  masterful !  Art  all  Englishmen  as  confi- 
dent as  you  ?  " 

"  I  know  nothing  about  other  men,"  he  declared.  "  But 
I  love  you,  Helene,  and  I  am  not  sure  that  you  do  not  care 
a  little  for  me." 

She  drew  her  hand  away  from  his  tightening  clasp. 

"I  am  going,"  she  said;  "it  is  your  own  fault — you  have 
driven  me  away." 

Her  draperies  rustled  as  she  moved  towards  the  door,  but 
she  did  not  go  far. 

"  I  do  not  feel  so  well,"  he  said  quietly  ;  "  I  believe  that 
I  am  going  to  faint." 

She  was  on  her  knees  by  his  side  again  in  a  moment. 
For  a  fainting  man,  the  clasp  of  his  fingers  around  hers  was 
wonderfully  strong. 

"  I  feel  better  now,"  he  announced  calmly.  "  I  shall  be 
all  right  if  you  stay  quietly  here,  and  don't  move  about." 

She  looked  at  him  doubtfully. 

"  I  do  not  believe,"  she  said,  "  that  you  felt  ill  at  all;  you 
are  taking  advantage  of  me  !  " 

"  I  can  assure  you  that  I  am  not,"  he  answered ;  "  when 
you  are  here  I  feel  a  different  man." 

"  I  am  quite  willing  to  stay  if  you  will  behave  yourself," 
she  said. 

"  Will  you  please  define  good  behaviour  ?  "  he  begged. 

"In  the  present  instance,"  she  laughed,  "it  consists  in 
not  saying  silly  things." 

"A  thing  which  is  true  cannot  be  silly,"  he  protested. 

17 


258  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"  It  is  true  that  I  am  never  happy  without  you.     That  is 
why  I  shall  never  give  you  up." 

She  looked  down  at  him  with  bright  eyes,  and  a  frown 
which  did  not  come  easily. 

"  If  you  persist  in  making  love  to  me,"  she  said,  "  I 
am  going  away.  It  is  not  permitted,  understand  that !  " 

He  sighed. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  he  answered  softly,  "  that  I  shall  always  be 
indulging  in  the  luxury  of  the  forbidden.  For  I  love  you, 
and  I  shall  never  weary  of  telling  you  so." 

"Then  I  must  see,"  she  declared,  making  a  subtle 
but  unsuccessful  attempt  to  disengage  her  hand,  "  that  you 
have  fewer  opportunities." 

"  If  you  mean  that,"  he  said,  "  I  must  certainly  make  the 
most  of  this  one.  Helene,  you  could  care  for  me,  I  know, 
and  I  could  make  you  happy.  You  say  '  No '  to  me 
because  there  is  some  vague  entanglement — I  will  not  call  it 
an  engagement — with  some  one  else.  You  do  not  care  for 
him,  I  am  sure.  Don't  marry  him !  It  will  be  for  your 
sorrow.  So  many  women's  lives  are  spoilt  like  that. 
Dearest,"  he  added,  gaining  courage  from  her  averted 
face,  "  I  can  make  you  happy,  I  am  sure  of  it !  I  do 
not  know  who  you  are  or  who  your  people  are,  but  they 
shall  be  my  people — nothing  matters,  except  that  I  love  you. 
I  don't  know  what  to  say  to  you,  Helene.  There  is  some- 
thing shadowy  in  your  mind  which  seems  to  you  to  come 
between  us.  I  don't  know  what  it  is,  or  I  would  dispel  it. 
Tell  me,  dear,  won't  you  give  me  a  chance  ?  " 

She  yielded  her  other  hand  to  his  impatient  fingers,  and 
looked  down  at  him  wistfully.  Yet  there  was  something  in 
her  gaze  which  he  could  not  fathom.  Of  one  thing  he  was 
very  sure,  there  was  a  little  tenderness  shining  out  of 
her  dark,  brilliant  eyes,  a  little  regret,  a  little  indecision. 
On  the  whole  he  was  hopeful. 

"  Dear,"  she  said  softly,   "  perhaps  I  do  care  for  you 


THE  SECRET  OF  MR.  SABItfS  NIECE  259 

a  little.  Perhaps — well,  some  time  in  the  future — what  you 
are  thinking  of  might  be  possible:  I  cannot  say.  Something, 
apart  from  you,  has  happened,  which  has  changed  my  life. 
You  must  let  me  go  for  a  little  while.  But  I  will  promise 
you  this.  The  entanglement  of  which  you  spoke  shall  be 
broken  off.  I  will  have  no  more  to  do  with  that  man  ! " 

He  sat  upright. 

"  Helene,"  he  said,  "  you  are  making  me  very  happy,  but 
there  is  one  thing  which  I  must  ask  you,  and  which  you 
must  forgive  me  for  asking.  This  entanglement  of  which 
you  speak  has  nothing  to  do  with  Mr.  Sabin  ?  " 

"  Nothing  whatever,"  she  answered  promptly.  "  How  I 
should  like  to  tell  you  everything  !  But  I  have  made  a 
solemn  promise,  and  I  must  keep  it.  My  lips  are  sealed. 
But  one  thing  I  should  like  you  to  understand,  in  case  you 
have  ever  had  any  doubt  about  it.  Mr.  Sabin  is  really  my 
uncle,  my  mother's  brother.  He  is  engaged  in  a  great 
enterprise  in  which  I  am  a  necessary  figure.  He  has 
suddenly  become  very  much  afraid  of  you." 

"Afraid  of  me! "  Wolfenden  repeated. 

She  nodded. 

"  I  ought  to  tell  you,  perhaps,  that  my  marriage  with  some 
one  else  is  necessary  to  insure  the  full  success  of  his  plans. 
So  you  see  he  has  set  himself  to  keep  us  apart." 

"The  more  you  tell  me,  the  more  bewildered  I  get," 
Wolfenden  declared.  "What  made  him  attack  me  just 
now  without  any  warning?  Surely  he  did  not  wish  to 
kill  me?" 

Her  hand  within  his  seemed  to  grow  colder. 

"  You  were  imprudent,"  she  said. 

"  Imprudent !     In  what  way  ?  " 

"You  told  him  that  you  had  sent  for  Mr.  C.  to  come 
and  go  through  your  father's  papers." 

"What  of  it?" 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  any  more !  " 


260  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

Wolfenden  rose  to  his  feet ;  he  was  still  giddy,  but  he  was 
able  to  stand. 

"  All  that  he  told  me  here  was  a  tissue  of  lies  then ! 
Helene,  I  will  not  leave  you  with  such  a  man.  You  cannot 
continue  to  live  with  him." 

"  I  do  not  intend  to,"  she  answered ;  "  I  want  to  get 
away.  What  has  happened  to-day  is  more  than  I  can 
pardon,  even  from  him.  Yet  you  must  not  judge  him  too 
harshly.  In  his  way  he  is  a  great  man,  and  he  is  planning 
great  things  which  are  not  wholly  for  his  advantage.  But  he 
is  unscrupulous  !  So  long  as  the  end  is  great,  he  believes 
himself  justified  in  stooping  to  any  means." 

Wolfenden  shuddered. 

"  You  must  not  live  another  day  with  him,"  he  exclaimed ; 
"you  will  come  to  Deringham  Hall.  My  mother  will  be 
only  too  glad  to  come  and  fetch  you.  It  is  not  very  cheer- 
ful there  just  now,  but  anything  is  better  than  leaving  you 
with  this  man." 

She  looked  at  him  curiously.  Her  eyes  were  soft  with 
something  which  suggested  pity,  but  resembled  tears. 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  that  would  not  do  at  all.  You  must 
not  think  because  I  have  been  living  with  Mr.  Sabin  that  I 
have  no  other  relations  or  friends.  I  have  a  very  great  many 
of  both,  only  it  was  arranged  that  I  should  leave  them  for  a 
while.  I  can  go  back  at  any  time  ;  I  am  altogether  my  own 
mistress." 

"  Then  go  back  at  once,"  he  begged  her  feverishly.  "  I 
could  not  bear  to  think  of  you  living  here  with  this  man 
another  hour.  Have  your  things  put  together  now  and  tell 
your  maid.  Let  me  take  you  to  the  station.  I  want  to  see 
you  leave  this  infernal  house,  and  this  atmosphere  of  cheat- 
ing and  lies,  when  I  do ! " 

Her  lips  parted  into  the  ghost  of  a  smile. 

"  I  have  not  found  so  much  to  regret  in  my  stay  here," 
she  said  softly. 


THE  SECRET  OF  MR.  SABIN'S  NIECE  261 

He  held  out  his  arms,  but  she  eluded  him  gently. 

"  I  hope,"  he  said,  "  nay,  I  know  that  you  will  never 
regret  it.  Never !  Tell  me  what  you  are  going  to  do 
now?" 

"  I  shall  leave  here  this  afternoon,"  she  said,  "  and  go 
straight  to  some  friends  in  London.  Then  I  shall  make 
new  plans,  or  rather  set  myself  to  the  remaking  of  old  ones. 
When  I  am  ready,  I  will  write  to  you.  But  remember 
again — I  make  no  promise  !  " 

He  held  out  his  hands. 

"  But  you  will  write  to  me  ?  " 

She  hesitated. 

"  No,  I  shall  not  write  to  you.  I  am  not  going  to  give 
you  my  address  even;  you  must  be  patient  for  a  little 
while." 

"You  will  not  go  away?  You  will  not  at  least  leave 
England  without  seeing  me  ?  " 

"  Not  unless  I  am  compelled,"  she  promised,  "  and 
then,  if  I  go,  I  will  come  back  again,  or  let  you  know 
where  I  am.  You  need  not  fear ;  I  am  not  going  to  slip 
away  and  be  lost !  You  shall  see  me  again." 

Wolfenden  was  dissatisfied. 

"  I  hate  letting  you  go,"  he  said.  "  I  hate  all  this 
mystery.  When  one  comes  to  think  of  it,  I  do  not  even 
know  your  name  !  It  is  ridiculous  !  Why  cannot  I  take 
you  to  London,  and  we  can  be  married  to-morrow.  Then 
I  should  have  the  right  to  protect  you  against  this  black- 
guard." 

She  laughed  softly.  Her  lips  were  parted  in  dainty 
curves,  and  her  eyes  were  lit  with  merriment. 

"How  delightful  you  are,"  she  exclaimed.  "And  to 
think  that  the  women  of  my  country  call  you  Englishmen 
slow  wooers !  " 

"  Won't  you  prove  the  contrary  ?  "  he  begged. 

She  shook  her  head. 


262  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"  It  is  already  proved.  But  if  you  are  sure  you  feel  well 
enough  to  walk,  please  go  now.  I  want  to  catch  the 
afternoon  train  to  London." 

He  held  out  his  hands  and  tried  once  more  to  draw  her 
to  him.  But  she  stepped  backwards  laughing. 

"  You  must  please  be  patient,"  she  said,  "  and  remember 
that  to  day  I  am  betrothed  to — somebody  else !  Good- 
bye 1" 


CHAPTER  XXXIIl 

MR.   SABIN   TRIUMPHS 

WOLFENDEN,  for  perhaps  the  first  time  in  his  life,  chose  the 
inland  road  home.  He  was  still  feeling  faint  and  giddy, 
and  the  fresh  air  only  partially  revived  him.  He  walked 
slowly,  and  rested  more  than  once.  It  took  him  almost 
half  an  hour  to  reach  the  cross  roads.  Here  he  sat  on  a 
stile  for  a  few  minutes,  until  he  began  to  feel  himself  again. 
Just  as  he  was  preparing  to  resume  his  walk,  he  was  aware 
of  a  carriage  being  driven  rapidly  towards  him,  along  the 
private  road  from  Deringham  Hall. 

He  stood  quite  still  and  watched  it.  The  roads  were 
heavy  after  much  rain,  and  the  mud  was  leaping  up  into 
the  sunshine  from  the  flying  wheels,  bespattering  the  car- 
riage, and  reaching  even  the  man  who  sat  upon  the  box. 
The  horses  had  broken  into  a  gallop,  the  driver  was  leaning 
forward  whip  in  hand.  He  knew  at  once  whose  carriage 
it  was :  it  was  the  little  brougham  which  Mr.  Sabin  had 
brought  down  from  London.  He  had  been  up  to  the  hall, 
then  !  Wolfenden's  face  grew  stern.  He  stood  well  out  in 
the  middle  of  the  road.  The  horses  would  have  to  be 
checked  a  little  at  the  sharp  turn  before  him.  They  would 
probably  shy  a  little,  seeing  him  stand  there  in  the  centre 
of  the  road ;  he  would  be  able  to  bring  them  to  a  standstill. 

So  he  remained  there  motionless.     Nearer  and  nearer  they 

263 


264  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

came.  Wolfenden  set  his  teeth  hard  and  forgot  his  dizzi- 
ness. 

They  were  almost  upon  him  now.  To  his  surprise  the 
driver  was  making  no  effort  to  check  his  galloping  horses. 
It  seemed  impossible  that  they  could  round  that  narrow 
corner  at  the  pace  they  were  going.  A  froth  of  white  foam 
was  on  their  bits,  and  their  eyes  were  bloodshot.  They 
were  almost  upon  Wolfenden  before  he  realised  what  was 
happening.  They  made  no  attempt  to  turn  the  corner 
which  he  was  guarding,  but  flashed  straight  past  him  along 
the  Cromer  road.  Wolfenden  shouted  and  waved  his 
arms,  but  the  coachman  did  not  even  glance  in  his  direc- 
tion. He  caught  a  glimpse  of  Mr.  Sabin's  face  as  he 
leaned  back  amongst  the  cushions,  dark,  satyr-like,  forbid- 
ding. The  thin  lips  seemed  to  part  into  a  triumphant 
smile  as  he  saw  Wolfenden  standing  there.  It  was  all  over 
in  a  moment.  The  carriage,  with  its  whirling  wheels,  was 
already  a  speck  in  the  distance. 

Wolfenden  looked  at  his  watch.  It  was  five-and-twenty 
minutes  to  one.  Mr.  Sabin's  purpose  was  obvious.  He 
was  trying  to  catch  the  one  o'clock  express  to  London. 
To  pursue  that  carriage  was  absolutely  hopeless.  Wolfen- 
den set  his  face  towards  Deringham  Hall  and  ran  steadily 
along  the  road.  He  was  filled  with  vague  fears.  The 
memory  of  Mr.  Sabin's  smile  haunted  him.  He  had 
succeeded.  By  what  means  ?  Perhaps  by  violence ! 
Wolfenden  forgot  his  own  aching  head.  He  was  filled 
only  with  an  intense  anxiety  to  reach  his  destination.  If 
Mr.  Sabin  had  so  much  as  raised  his  hand,  he  should  pay 
for  it.  He  understood  now  why  that  blow  had  been  given. 
It  was  to  keep  him  out  of  the  way.  As  he  ran  on,  his 
teeth  clenched,  and  his  breath  coming  fast,  he  grew  hot 
with  passionate  anger.  He  had  been  Mr.  Sabin's  dupe ! 
Curse  the  man. 

He  turned  the  final  corner  in  the  drive,  climbed  the 


MR.  SABIN  TRIUMPHS  265 

steps  and  entered  the  hall.  The  servants  were  standing 
about  as  usual.  There  was  no  sign  of  anything  having 
happened.  They  looked  at  him  curiously,  but  that  might 
well  be,  owing  to  his  dishevelled  condition. 

"  Where  is  the  Admiral,  Groves  ?  "  he  asked  breathlessly. 

"  His  lordship  is  in  the  billiard -room,"  the  man  answered. 

Wolfenden  stopped  short  in  his  passage  across  the  hall, 
and  looked  at  the  man  in  amazement. 

"Where?" 

"In  the  billiard-room,  my  lord,"  the  man  repeated. 
"  He  was  inquiring  for  you  only  a  moment  ago." 

Wolfenden  turned  sharp  to  the  left  and  entered  the 
billiard-room.  His  father  was  standing  there  with  his  coat 
off  and  a  cue  in  his  hand.  Directly  he  turned  round 
Wolfenden  was  aware  of  a  peculiar  change  in  his  face  and 
expression.  The  hard  lines  had  vanished,  every  trace  of 
anxiety  seemed  to  have  left  him.  His  eyes  were  soft  and 
as  clear  as  a  child's.  He  turned  to  Wolfenden  with  a 
bland  smile,  and  immediately  began  to  chalk  his  cue. 

"  Come  and  play  me  a  game,  Wolf,"  he  cried  out  cheer- 
fully. "You'll  have  to  give  me  a  few,  I'm  so  out  of 
practice.  We'll  make  it  a  hundred,  and  you  shall  give  me 
twenty.  Which  will  you  have,  spot,  or  plain  ?  " 

Wolfenden  gulped  down  his  amazement  with  an  effort. 

"  I'll  take  plain,"  he  said.  "  It's  a  long  time,  isn't  it, 
since  we  played  ?  " 

His  father  faced  him  for  a  minute  and  seemed  perplexed. 

"  Not  so  very  long,  surely.  Wasn't  it  yesterday,  or  the 
day  before  ?  " 

Wolfenden  wondered  for  a  moment  whether  that  blow 
had  affected  his  brain.  It  was  years  since  he  had  seen  the 
billiard-room  at  Deringham  Hall  opened. 

"  I  don't  exactly  remember,"  he  faltered.  "  Perhaps  I 
was  mistaken.  Time  goes  so  quickly." 

"  I   wonder,"   the  Admiral   said,  making  a  cannon  and 


266  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

stepping  briskly  round  the  table,  "  how  it  goes  at  all  with 
you  young  men  who  do  nothing.  Great  mistake  to  have 
no  profession,  Wolf !  I  wish  I  could  make  you  see  it." 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you,"  Wolfenden  said.  "  You  must 
not  look  upon  me  as  quite  an  idler,  though.  I  am  a  full- 
fledged  barrister,  you  know,  although  I  do  not  practise, 
and  I  have  serious  thoughts  of  Parliament." 

The  Admiral  shook  his  head. 

"  Poor  career,  my  boy,  poor  career  for  a  gentleman's  son, 
Take  my  advice  and  keep  out  of  Parliament.  I  am  going 
to  pot  the  red.  I  don't  like  the  red  ball,  Wolf !  It  keeps 
looking  at  me  like — like  that  man  !  Ah  !  " 

He  flung  his  cue  with  a  rattle  upon  the  floor  of  inlaid 
wood,  and  started  back. 

"  Look,  Wolf ! "  he  cried.  "  He's  grinning  at  me  !  Come 
here,  boy  !  Tell  me  the  truth !  Have  I  been  tricked  ? 
He  told  me  that  he  was  Mr.  C.  and  I  gave  him  everything ! 
Look  at  his  face  how  it  changes  !  He  isn't  like  C.  now ! 
He  is  like — who  is  it  he  is  like  ?  C.'s  face  is  not  so  pale 
as  that,  and  he  does  not  limp.  I  seem  to  remember  him 
too  !  Can't  you  help  me  ?  Can't  you  see  him,  boy  ?  " 

He  had  been  moving  backwards  slowly.  He  was  leaning 
now  against  the  wall,  his  face  blanched  and  perfectly  blood- 
less, his  eyes  wild  and  his  pupils  dilated.  Wolfenden  laid 
his  cue  down  and  came  over  to  his  side. 

"  No,  I  can't  see  him,  father,"  he  said  gently.  "  I  think 
it  must  be  fancy  ;  you  have  been  working  too  hard." 

"You  are  blind,  boy,  blind,"  the  Admiral  muttered. 
"  Where  was  it  I  saw  him  last  ?  There  were  sands — and  a 
burning  sun — his  shot  went  wide,  but  I  aimed  low  and  I 
hit  him.  He  carried  himself  bravely.  He  was  an  aristocrat, 
and  he  never  forgot  it.  But  why  does  he  call  himself  Mr. 
C.  ?  What  has  he  to  do  with  my  work  ?  " 

Wolfenden  choked  down  a  lump  in  his  throat.  He 
began  to  surmise  what  had  happened. 


MS.  SABIN  TRfUMPfTS  267 

"  Let  us  go  into  the  other  room,  father,"  he  said  gently. 
"  It  is  too  cold  for  billiards." 

The  Admiral  held  out  his  arm.  He  seemed  suddenly 
weak  and  old.  His  eyes  were  dull  and  he  was  muttering 
to  himself.  Wolfenden  led  him  gently  from  the  room  and 
upstairs  to  his  own  apartment.  There  he  made  an  excuse 
for  leaving  him  for  a  moment,  and  hurried  down  into  the 
library.  Mr.  Blatherwick  was  writing  there  alone. 

"  Blatherwick,"  Wolfenden  exclaimed,  "  what  has  hap- 
pened this  morning  ?  Who  has  been  here  ?  " 

Mr.  Blatherwick  blushed  scarlet. 

"  Miss  Merton  called,  and  a  gentleman  with  her,  from  the 
Home  Office,  I  b-b-believe." 

"Who  let  him  into  the  library?"  Wolfenden  asked 
sternly. 

Mr.  Blatherwick  fingered  his  collar,  as  though  he  found 
it  too  tight  for  him,  and  appeared  generally  uncomfortable. 

"At  Miss  Merton's  request,  Lord  Wolfenden,"  he  said 
nevously,  "  I  allowed  him  to  come  in.  I  understood  that 
he  had  been  sent  for  by  her  ladyship.  I  trust  that  I  did 
not  do  wrong." 

"You  are  an  ass,  Blatherwick,"  Wolfenden  exclaimed 
angrily.  "  You  seem  to  enjoy  lending  yourself  to  be  the 
tool  of  swindlers  and  thieves.  My  father  has  lost  his 
reason  entirely  now,  and  it  is  your  fault.  You  had  better 
leave  here  at  once  !  You  are  altogether  too  credulous  for 
this  world." 

Wolfenden  strode  away  towards  his  mother's  room,  but  a 
cry  from  upstairs  directed  his  steps.  Lady  Deringham  and 
he  met  outside  his  father's  door,  and  entered  the  room 
together.  They  came  face  to  face  with  the  Admiral. 

"  Out  of  my  way !"  he  cried  furiously.  "  Come  with  me, 
Wolf!  We  must  follow  him.  I  must  have  my  papers 
back,  or  kill  him !  I  have  been  dreaming.  He  told  me 
that  he  was  C.  I  gave  him  all  he  asked  for !  We 


268  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

must  have  them  back.  Merciful  heavens  !  if  he  publishes 
them,  we  are  ruined  .  .  .  where  did  he  come  from  ?  .  .  . 
They  told  me  that  he  was  dead.  .  .  .  Has  he  crawled  back 
out  of  hell  ?  I  shot  him  once  !  He  has  never  forgotten  it ! 
This  is  his  vengeance !  Oh,  God  ! " 

He  sank  down  into  a  chair.  The  perspiration  stood  out 
in  great  beads  upon  his  white  forehead.  He  was  shaking 
from  head  to  foot.  Suddenly  his  head  drooped  in  the  act 
of  further  speech,  the  words  died  away  upon  his  lips.  He 
was  unconscious.  The  Countess  knelt  by  his  side  and 
Wolfenden  stood  over  her. 

"  Do  you  know  anything  of  what  has  happened  ?  "  Wol- 
fenden asked. 

"Very  little,"  she  whispered;  "somehow,  he — Mr. 
Sabin — got  into  the  library,  and  the  shock  sent  him — like 
this.  Here  is  the  doctor." 

Dr.  Whitlett  was  ushered  in.  They  all  three  looked 
down  upon  the  Admiral,  and  the  doctor  asked  a  few  rapid 
questions.  There  was  certainly  a  great  change  in  his  face. 
A  strong  line  or  two  had  disappeared,  the  countenance  was 
milder  and  younger.  It  was  like  the  face  of  a  child.  Wol- 
fenden was  afraid  to  see  the  eyes  open,  he  seemed  already 
in  imagination  to  picture  to  himself  their  vacant,  unseeing 
light.  Dr.  Whitlett  shook  his  head  sadly. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  he  said  gravely,  "that  when  Lord  Dering- 
ham  recovers  he  will  remember  nothing !  He  has  had  a 
severe  shock,  and  there  is  every  indication  that  his  mind 
has  given  way." 

Wolfenden  drew  his  teeth  together  savagely.  This,  then, 
was  the  result  of  Mr.  Sabin's  visit. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

BLANCHE  MERTON'S  LITTLE  PLOT 

AT  about  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  as  Helene  was 
preparing  to  leave  the  Lodge,  a  telegram  was  brought  in  to 
her  from  Mr.  Sabin. 

"I  have  succeeded  and  am  now  en  route  for  London. 
You  had  better  follow  when  convenient,  but  do  not  be  later 
than  to-morrow." 

She  tore  it  into  small  pieces  and  hummed  a  tune. 

"It  is  enough,"  she  murmured.  "I  am  not  ambitious 
any  longer.  I  am  going  to  London,  it  is  true,  my  dear 
uncle,  but  not  to  Kensington  !  You  can  play  Richelieu  to 
Henri  and  my  cousin,  if  it  pleases  you.  I  wonder " 

Her  face  grew  softer  and  more  thoughtful.  Suddenly 
she  laughed  outright  to  herself.  She  went  and  sat  down  on 
the  couch,  where  Wolfenden  had  been  lying. 

"  It  would  have  been  simpler,"  she  said  to  herself.  "  How 
like  a  man  to  think  of  such  a  daring  thing.  I  wish — I 
almost  wish — I  had  consented.  What  a  delightful  sensation 
it  would  have  made.  Cecile  will  laugh  when  I  tell  her  of 
this.  To  her  I  have  always  seemed  ambitious,  and  ambi- 
tious only  .  .  .  and  now  I  have  found  out  that  I  have  a 
heart  only  to  give  it  away.  He'las  !  " 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door.     A  servant  entered. 

"  Miss  Merton  would  be  glad  to  know  if  you  could  spare 
her  a  moment  before  you  left,  Miss,"  the  man  announced. 

269 


270  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

Helena  glanced  at  the  clock. 

"  I  am  going  very  shortly,"  she  said  ;  "  she  had  better 
come  in  now." 

The  man  withdrew,  but  returned  almost  immediately, 
ushering  in  Miss  Merton.  For  the  first  time  Helene 
noticed  how  pretty  the  girl  was.  Her  trim,  dainty  little 
figure  was  shown  off  to  its  utmost  advantage  by  the  neat 
tailor  gown  she  was  wearing,  and  there  was  a  bright  glow  of 
colour  in  her  cheeks.  Helene,  who  had  no  liking  for  her 
uncle's  typewriter,  and  who  had  scarcely  yet  spoken  to 
her,  remained  standing,  waiting  to  hear  what  she  had  to 
say. 

"  I  wanted  to  see  Mr.  Sabin,"  she  began.  "  Can  you  tell 
me  when  he  will  be  back  ?  " 

"  He  has  gone  to  London,"  Helene  replied.  "  He  will 
not  be  returning  here  at  all." 

The  girl's  surprise  was  evidently  genuine. 

"But  he  said  nothing  about  it  a  few  hours  ago,"  she 
exclaimed.  "You  are  in  his  confidence,  I  know.  This 
morning  he  gave  me  something  to  do.  I  was  to  get  Mr. 
Blather  wick  away  from  the  Hall,  and  keep  him  with  me  as 
long  as  I  could.  You  do  not  know  Mr.  Blatherwick  ?  then 
you  cannot  sympathise  with  me.  Since  ten  o'clock  I  have 
been  with  him.  At  last  I  could  keep  him  no  longer.  He 
has  gone  back  to  the  Hall." 

"Mr.  Sabin  will  probably  write  to  you,"  Helene  said. 
"  This  house  is  taken  for  another  fortnight,  and  you  can  of 
course  remain  here,  if  you  choose.  You  will  certainly  hear 
from  him  within  the  next  day  or  two." 

Miss  Merton  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"Well,  I  shall  take  a  holiday,"  she  declared.  "I've 
finished  typing  all  the  copy  I  had.  Haven't  you  dropped 
something  there  ?  " 

She  stooped  suddenly  forward,  and  picked  up  a  locket 
from  the  floor. 


BLANCHE  MERTON'S  LITTLE  PLOT  271 

"  Is  this  yours  ?  "  she  asked.     "  Why " 

She  held  the  locket  tightly  in  her  hand.  Her  eyes 
seemed  rivetted  upon  it.  It  was  very  small  and  fashioned 
of  plain  gold,  with  a  coronet  and  letter  on  the  face.  Miss 
Merton  looked  at  it  in  amazement. 

"  Why,  this  belongs  to  Wolf— to  Lord  Wolfenden,"  she 
exclaimed. 

Helene  looked  at  her  in  cold  surprise. 

"  It  is  very  possible,"  she  said.  "  He  was  here  a  short 
time  ago." 

Miss  Merton  clenched  the  locket  in  her  hand,  as  though 
she  feared  for  its  safety. 

"  Here  !     In  this  room  ?  " 

"  Certainly  !  He  called  to  see  Mr.  Sabin  and  remained 
for  some  time." 

Miss  Merton  was  a  little  paler.  She  did  not  look  quite 
so  pretty  now. 

"  Did  you  see  him  ?  "  she  asked. 

Helene  raised  her  eyebrows. 

"  1  scarcely  understand,"  she  said,  "  what  business  it  is  of 
yours.  Since  you  ask  me,  however,  I  have  no  objection  to 
telling  you  that  I  did  see  Lord  Wolfenden.  He  remained 
some  time  here  with  me  after  Mr.  Sabin  left." 

"Perhaps,"  Miss  Merton  suggested,  with  acidity,  "that 
was  why  I  was  sent  out  of  the  way." 

Helene  looked  at  her  through  half-closed  eyes. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  she  said,  "  that  you  are  a  very  impertinent 
young  woman.  Be  so  good  as  to  put  that  locket  upon  the 
table  and  leave  the  room." 

The  girl  did  neither.  On  the  contrary,  she  slipped  the 
locket  into  the  bosom  of  her  gown. 

"  I  will  take  care  of  this,"  she  remarked. 

Helene  laid  her  hand  upon  the  bell. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  she  said,  "  that  you  must  be  unwell.  I 
am  going  to  ring  the  bell.  Perhaps  you  will  be  good 


27«  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

enough  to  place  the  locket  on  that  table  and  leave  the 
room." 

Miss  Merton  drew  herself  up  angrily. 

"  I  have  a  better  claim  upon  the  locket  than  any  one," 
she  said.  "I  am  seeing  Lord  Wolfenden  constantly.  I 
will  give  it  to  him." 

"  Thank  you,  you  need  not  trouble,"  Helene  answered. 
"  I  shall  send  a  servant  with  it  to  Deringham  Hall.  Will 
you  be  good  enough  to  give  it  to  me  ?  " 

Miss  Merton  drew  a  step  backwards  and  shook  her  head. 

"  I  think,"  she  said,  "  that  I  am  more  concerned  in  it 
than  you  are,  for  I  gave  it  to  him." 

"  You  gave  it  to  him  ?  " 

Miss  Merton  nodded. 

"  Yes  !     If  you  don't  believe  me,  look  here." 

She  drew  the  locket  from  her  bosom  and,  holding  it  out, 
touched  a  spring.  There  was  a  small  miniature  inside; 
Helene,  leaning  over,  recognised  it  at  once.  It  was  a  like- 
ness of  the  girl  herself.  She  felt  the  colour  leave  her 
cheeks,  but  she  did  not  flinch. 

"I  was  not  aware,"  she  said,  "that  you  were  on  such 
friendly  terms  with  Lord  Wolfenden." 

The  girl  smiled  oddly. 

"  Lord  Wolfenden,"  she  said,  "  has  been  very  kind  to 
me." 

"  Perhaps,"  Helene  continued,  "  I  ought  not  to  ask,  but 
I  must  confess  that  you  have  surprised  me.  Is  Lord  Wol- 
fenden— your  lover  ? " 

Miss  Merton  shut  up  the  locket  with  a  click  and  returned 
it  to  her  bosom.  There  was  no  longer  any  question  as  to 
her  retaining  it.  She  looked  at  Helene  thoughtfully. 

"  Has  he  been  making  love  to  you  ?  "  she  asked  abruptly. 

Helene  raised  her  eyes  and  looked  at  her.  The  other 
girl  felt  suddenly  very  insignificant. 

"  You  must  not  ask  me  impertinent  questions,"  she  said 


BLANCHE  MERTON'S  LITTLE  PLOT  273 

calmly.     "  Of  course  you  need  not  tell  me  anything  unless 
you  choose.     It  is  for  you  to  please  yourself." 

The  girl  was  white  with  anger.  She  had  not  a  tithe  of 
Helene's  self-control,  and  she  felt  that  she  was  not  making 
the  best  of  her  opportunities. 

"Lord  Wolfenden,"  she  said  slowly,  "did  promise  to 
marry  me  once.  I  was  his  father's  secretary,  and  I  was 
turned  away  on  his  account." 

"  Indeed ! " 

There  was  a  silence  between  the  two  women.  Miss 
Merton  was  watching  Helene  closely,  but  she  was  disap- 
pointed. Her  face  was  set  in  cold,  proud  lines,  but  she 
showed  no  signs  of  trouble. 

"  Under  these  circumstances,"  Helene  said,  "  the  locket 
certainly  belongs  to  you.  If  you  will  allow  me,  I  will  ring 
now  for  my  maid.  I  am  leaving  here  this  evening." 

"I  should  like,"  Miss  Merton  said,  "to  tell  you  about 
Lord  Wolfenden  and  myself." 

Helene  smiled  languidly. 

"You  will  excuse  me,  I  am  sure,"  she  said.  "It  is 
scarcely  a  matter  which  interests  me." 

Miss  Merton  flushed  angrily.  She  was  at  a  disadvantage 
and  she  knew  it. 

"I  thought  that  you  were  very  much  interested  in  Lord 
Wolfenden,"  she  said  spitefully. 

"  I  have  found  him  much  pleasanter  than  the  majority 
of  Englishmen." 

" But  you  don't  care  to  hear  about  him — from  me!"  Miss 
Merton  exclaimed. 

Helene  smiled. 

"I  have  no  desire  to  be  rude,"  she  said,  "but  since  you 
put  it  in  that  way  I  will  admit  that  you  are  right." 

The  girl  bit  her  lip.  She  felt  that  she  had  only  partially 
succeeded.  This  girl  was  more  than  her  match.  She 
suddenly  changed  her  tactics. 

18 


274  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"  Oh  !  you  are  cruel,"  she  exclaimed.  "  You  want  to 
take  him  from  me;  I  know  you  do!  He  promised — to 
marry  me — before  you  came.  He  must  marry  me  !  I  dare 
not  go  home  ! " 

"  I  can  assure  you,"  Helene  said  quietly,  "  that  I  have 
not  the  faintest  desire  to  take  Lord  Wolfenden  from  you — 
or  from  any  one  else  !  I  do  not  like  this  conversation  at  all, 
and  I  do  not  intend  to  continue  it.  Perhaps  if  you  have 
nothing  more  to  say  you  will  go  to  your  room,  or  if  you 
wish  to  go  away  I  will  order  a  carriage  for  you.  Please 
make  up  your  mind  quickly." 

Miss  Merton  sprang  up  and  walked  towards  the  door. 
Her  pretty  face  was  distorted  with  anger. 

"  I  do  not  want  your  carriage,"  she  said.  "  I  am  leaving 
the  house,  but  I  will  walk." 

"  Just  as  you  choose,  if  you  only  go,"  Helene  murmured. 

She  was  already  at  the  door,  but  she  turned  back. 

"  I  can't  help  it !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  I've  got  to  ask  you 
a  question.  Has  Lord  Wolfenden  asked  you  to  marry 
him?" 

Helene  was  disgusted,  but  she  was  not  hard-hearted.  The 
girl  was  evidently  distressed — it  never  occurred  to  her  that 
she  might  not  be  in  earnest.  She  herself  could  not  understand 
such  a  lack  of  self-respect.  A  single  gleam  of  pity  mingled 
with  her  contempt. 

"  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  answer  your  question,"  she  said 
coldly,  "  as  it  concerns  Lord  Wolfenden  as  well  as  myself. 
But  I  have  no  objection  to  telling  you  this.  I  am  the 
Princess  Helene  of  Bourbon,  and  I  am  betrothed  to  my 
cousin,  Prince  Henri  of  Ortrens  !  So  you  see  that  I  am  not 
likely  to  marry  Lord  Wolfenden  !  Now,  please,  go  away  at 
once  ! " 

Miss  Merton  obeyed.  She  left  the  room  literally  speech- 
less. Helene  rang  the  bell. 

"  If  that  young  person — Miss  Merton  I  think  her  name 


BLANCHE  MERTON'S  LITTLE  PLOT  275 

is — attempts  to  see  me  again  before  I  leave,  be  sure  that  she 
is  not  admitted,"  she  told  the  servant. 

The  man  bowed  and  left  the  room.  Helene  was  left 
alone.  She  sank  into  an  easy  chair  by  the  fire  and  leaned 
her  head  upon  her  hand.  Her  self-control  was  easy  and 
magnificent,  but  now  that  she  was  alone  her  face  had 
softened.  The  proud,  little  mouth  was  quivering.  A  feeling 
of  uneasiness,  of  utter  depression  stole  over  her.  Tears 
stood  for  a  moment  in  her  eyes  but  she  brushed  them 
fiercely  away. 

"  How  could  he  have  dared  ?  "  she  murmured.  "  I  wish 
that  I  were  a  man !  After  all,  then,  it  must  be — ambi- 
tion ! " 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

A   LITTLE   GAME   OF   CARDS 

MR.  SABIN,  whose  carriage  had  set  him  down  at  the  Cromer 
railway  station  with  barely  two  minutes  to  spare,  took  his 
seat  in  an  empty  first-class  smoking  carriage  of  the  London 
train  and  deliberately  lit  a  fine  cigar.  He  was  filled  with 
that  sense  of  triumphant  self-satisfaction  which  falls  to  the 
lot  of  a  man  who,  after  much  arduous  labour  successfully 
accomplished,  sees  very  near  at  hand  the  great  desire  of  his 
life.  Two  days'  more  quiet  work,  and  his  task  was  done. 
All  that  he  had  pledged  himself  to  give,  he  would  have 
ready  for  the  offering.  The  finishing  touches  were  but 
a  matter  of  detail.  It  had  been  a  great  undertaking — more 
difficult  at  times  than  he  had  ever  reckoned  for.  He  told 
himself  with  some  complacency  that  no  other  man  breath- 
ing could  have  brought  it  to  so  satisfactory  a  conclusion. 
His  had  been  a  life  of  great  endeavours ;  this  one,  however, 
was  the  crowning  triumph  of  his  career. 

He  watched  the  people  take  their  seats  in  the  train  with 
idle  eyes ;  he  was  not  interested  in  any  of  them.  He 
scarcely  saw  their  faces ;  they  were  not  of  his  world  nor  he 
of  theirs.  But  suddenly  he  received  a  rude  shock.  He 
sat  upright  and  wiped  away  the  moisture  from  the  window 
in  order  that  he  might  see  more  clearly.  A  young  man  in 
a  long  ulster  was  buying  newspapers  from  a  boy  only  a  yard 
or  two  away.  Something  about  the  figure  and  manner 

276 


A  LITTLE  GAME  OF  CARDS  277 

of  standing  seemed  to  Mr.  Sabin  vaguely  familiar.  He 
waited  until  his  head  was  turned,  and  the  eyes  of  the 
two  men  met — then  the  last  vestige  of  doubt  disappeared. 
It  was  Felix !  Mr.  Sabin  leaned  back  in  his  corner  with 
darkening  face.  He  had  noticed  to  his  dismay  that  the 
encounter,  surprising  though  it  had  been  to  him,  had 
been  accepted  by  Felix  as  a  matter  of  course — he  was 
obviously  prepared  for  it.  He  had  met  Mr.  Sabin's 
anxious  and  incredulous  gaze  with  a  faint,  peculiar  smile. 
His  probable  presence  in  the  train  had  evidently  been 
confidently  reckoned  upon.  Felix  had  been  watching  him 
secretly,  and  knowing  what  he  did  know  of  that  young  man, 
Mr.  Sabin  was  seriously  disturbed.  He  did  not  hesitate  for 
a  moment,  however,  to  face  the  position.  He  determined 
at  once  upon  a  bold  course  of  action.  Letting  down  the 
window  he  put  out  his  head. 

"Are  you  going  to  town?"  he  asked  Felix,  as  though 
seeing  him  then  was  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world. 

The  young  man  nodded. 

"Yes,  it's  getting  pretty  dreary  down  here,  isn't  it? 
You're  off  back,  I  see." 

Mr.  Sabin  assented. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  I've  had  about  enough  of  it.  Besides, 
I'm  overdue  at  Pau,  and  I'm  anxious  to  get  there.  Are  you 
coming  in  here  ?  " 

Felix  hesitated.  At  first  the  suggestion  had  astonished 
him ;  almost  immediately  it  became  a  temptation.  It 
would  be  distinctly  piquant  to  travel  with  this  man.  On 
the  other  hand  it  was  distinctly  unwise ;  it  was  running  an 
altogether  unnecessary  risk.  Mr.  Sabin  read  his  thoughts 
with  the  utmost  ease. 

"  I  should  rather  like  to  have  a  little  chat  with  you,"  he 
said  quietly;  "you  are  not  afraid,  are  you?  I  am  quite 
unarmed,  and  as  you  see  Nature  has  not  made  me  for  a 
fighting  man." 


278  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

Felix  hesitated  no  longer.  He  motioned  to  the  porter 
who  was  carrying  his  dressing-case  and  golf  clubs,  and 
had  them  conveyed  into  Mr.  Sabin's  carriage.  He  himself 
took  the  opposite  seat. 

"  I  had  no  idea,"  Mr.  Sabin  remarked,  "  that  you  were  in 
the  neighbourhood." 

Felix  smiled. 

"  You  have  been  so  engrossed  in  your — golf,"  he  re- 
marked. "  It  is  a  fascinating  game,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"  Very,"  Mr.  Sabin  assented.  "  You  yourself  are  a 
devotee,  I  see." 

"I  am  a  beginner,"  Felix  answered,  "and  a  very  clumsy 
beginner  too.  I  take  my  clubs  with  me,  however,  whenever 
I  go  to  the  coast  at  this  time  of  year ;  they  save  one  from 
being  considered  a  madman." 

"  It  is  singular,"  Mr.  Sabin  remarked,  "  that  you  should 
have  chosen  to  visit  Cromer  just  now.  It  is  really  a  most 
interesting  meeting.  I  do  not  think  that  I  have  had  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  you  since  that  evening  at  the  '  Milan,' 
when  your  behaviour  towards  me — forgive  my  alluding  to  it 
— was  scarcely  considerate." 

Mr.  Sabin  was  quite  friendly  and  unembarrassed.  He 
seemed  to  treat  the  affair  as  a  joke.  Felix  looked  glumly 
out  of  the  window. 

"Your  luck  stood  you  in  good  stead — as  usual,"  he  said. 
"  I  meant  to  kill  you  that  night.  You  see  I  don't  mind 
confessing  it !  I  had  sworn  to  make  the  attempt  the 
first  time  we  met  face  to  face." 

"Considering  that  we  are  'quite  alone,"  Mr.  Sabin 
remarked,  looking  around  the  carriage,  "and  that  from 
physical  considerations  my  life  under  such  conditions  is 
entirely  at  your  mercy,  I  should  like  some  assurance  that 
you  have  no  intention  of  repeating  the  attempt.  It  would 
add  very  materially  to  my  comfort." 

The  young  man  smiled  without  immediately  answering. 


A  LITTLE  GAME  OF  CARDS  279 

Then  he  was  suddenly  grave ;  he  appeared  to  be  reflecting. 
Almost  imperceptibly  Mr.  Sabin's  hand  stole  towards  the 
window.  He  was  making  a  mental  calculation  as  to 
what  height  above  the  carriage  window  the  communi- 
cation cord  might  be.  Felix,  watching  his  fingers,  smiled 
again. 

"  You  need  have  no  fear,"  he  said ;  "  the  cause  of 
personal  enmity  between  you  and  me  is  dead.  You  have 
nothing  more  to  fear  from  me  at  any  time." 

Mr.  Sabin's  hand  slid  down  again  to  his  side. 

"lam  charmed  to  hear  it,"  he  declared.  "You  are,  I 
presume,  in  earnest  ?  " 

"  Most  certainly.  It  is  as  I  say ;  the  cause  for  personal 
enmity  between  us  is  removed.  Save  for  a  strong  personal 
dislike,  which  under  the  circumstances  I  trust  that  you  will 
pardon  me  " — Mr.  Sabin  bowed — "  I  have  no  feeling  towards 
you  whatever ! " 

Mr.  Sabin  drew  a  somewhat  exaggerated  sigh  of  relief. 
"  I  live,"  he  said,  "  with  one  more  fear  removed.  But  I 
must  confess,"  he  added,  "  to  a  certain  amount  of  curiosity. 
We  have  a  somewhat  tedious  journey  before  us,  and 
several  hours  at  our  disposal ;  would  it  be  asking  you 
too  much " 

Felix  waved  his  hand. 

"  Not  at  all,"  he  said.  "  A  few  words  will  explain  every- 
thing. I  have  other  matters  to  speak  of  with  you,  but  they 
can  wait.  As  you  remark,  we  have  plenty  of  time  before 
us.  Three  weeks  ago  I  received  a  telegram  from  Brussels. 
It  was  from — forgive  me,  if  I  do  not  utter  her  name  in 
your  presence ;  it  seems  somehow  like  sacrilege." 

Mr.  Sabin  bowed  ;  a  little  red  spot  was  burning  through 
the  pallor  of  his  sunken  cheeks. 

"  I  was  there,"  Felix  continued,  "  in  a  matter  of  twenty- 
four  hours.  She  was  ill — believed  herself  to  be  dying.  We 
spoke  together  of  a  little  event  many  years  old  ;  yet  which 


28o  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

I  venture  to  think,  neither  you,  nor  she,  nor  I  have  ever 
forgotten." 

Mr.  Sabin  pulled  down  the  blind  by  his  side ;  it  was  only 
a  stray  gleam  of  wintry  sunshine,  which  had  stolen  through 
the  grey  clouds,  but  it  seemed  to  dazzle  him. 

"It  had  come  to  her  knowledge  that  you  and  I  were 
together  in  London — that  you  were  once  more  essaying  to 
play  a  part  in  civilised  and  great  affairs.  And  lest  our 
meeting  should  bring  harm  about,  she  told  me — something 
of  which  I  have  always  been  in  ignorance." 

"  Ah  ! " 

Mr.  Sabin  moved  uneasily  in  his  seat.  He  drew  his 
club-foot  a  little  further  back ;  Felix  seemed  to  be  looking 
at  it  absently. 

"  She  showed  me,"  he  continued,  "  a  little  pistol ;  she 
explained  to  me  that  a  woman's  aim  is  a  most  uncertain 
thing.  Besides,  you  were  some  distance  away,  and  your 
spring  aside  helped  you.  Then,  too,  so  far  as  I  could  see 
from  the  mechanism  of  the  thing — it  was  an  old  and  clumsy 
affair — it  carried  low.  At  any  rate  the  shot,  which  was 
doubtless  meant  for  your  heart,  found  a  haven  in  your  foot. 
From  her  lips  I  learned  for  the  first  time  that  she,  the 
sweetest  and  most  timid  of  her  sex,  had  dared  to  become 
her  own  avenger.  Life  is  a  sad  enough  thing,  and  pleasure 
is  rare,  yet  I  tasted  pleasure  of  the  keenest  and  subtlest 
kind  when  she  told  me  that  story.  I  feel  even  now  some 
slight  return  of  it  when  I  look  at  your — shall  we  call 
deformity,  and  consider  how  different  a  person " 

Mr.  Sabin  half  rose  to  his  feet ;  his  face  was  white  and 
set,  save  where  a  single  spot  of  colour  was  flaring  high  up 
near  his  cheek-bone.  His  eyes  were  bloodshot;  for  a 
moment  he  seemed  about  to  strike  the  other  man.  Felix 
broke  off  in  his  sentence,  and  watched  him  warily. 

"  Come,"  he  said,  "  it  is  not  like  you  to  lose  control  of 
yourself  in  that  manner.  It  is  a  simple  matter.  You 


A  LITTLE  GAME  OF  CARDS  281 

wronged  a  woman,  and  she  avenged  herself  magnificently. 
As  for  me,  I  can  see  that  my  interference  was  quite  uncalled 
for  j  I  even  venture  to  offer  you  my  apologies  for  the  fright 
I  must  have  given  you  at  the  '  Milan.'  The  account  had 
already  been  straightened  by  abler  hands.  I  can  assure 
you  that  I  am  no  longer  your  enemy.  In  fact,  when  I  look 
at  you  " — his  eyes  seemed  to  fall  almost  to  the  ground — • 
"  when  I  look  at  you,  I  permit  myself  some  slight  sensation 
of  pity  for  your  unfortunate  affliction.  But  it  was  magni- 
ficent !  Shall  we  change  the  subject  now  ?  " 

Mr.  Sabin  sat  quite  still  in  his  corner;  his  eyes  seemed 
fixed  upon  a  distant  hill,  bordering  the  flat  country  through 
which  they  were  passing.  Felix's  stinging  words  and  mock- 
ing smile  had  no  meaning  for  him.  In  fact  he  did  not  see 
his  companion  any  longer,  nor  was  he  conscious  of  his 
presence.  The  narrow  confines  of  the  railway  carriage  had 
fallen  away.  He  was  in  a  lofty  room,  in  a  chamber  of  a 
palace,  a  privileged  guest,  the  lover  of  the  woman  whose 
dark,  passionate  eyes  and  soft,  white  arms  were  gleaming 
there  before  his  eyes.  It  was  but  one  of  many  such 
scenes.  He  shuddered  very  slightly,  as  he  went  back 
further  still.  He  had  been  faithful  to  one  god,  and  one 
god  only — the  god  of  self!  Was  it  a  sign  of  coming 
trouble,  that  for  the  first  time  for  many  years  he  had 
abandoned  himself  to  the  impotent  morbidness  of  abstract 
thought  ?  He  shook  himself  free  from  it  with  an  effort ; 
what  lunacy !  To-day  he  was  on  the  eve  of  a  mighty 
success — his  feet  were  planted  firmly  upon  the  threshold  ! 
The  end  of  all  his  ambitions  stood  fairly  in  view,  and  the 
path  to  it  was  wide  and  easy.  Only  a  little  time,  and  his 
must  be  one  of  the  first  names  in  Europe !  The  thought 
thrilled  him,  the  little  flood  of  impersonal  recollections 
ebbed  away ;  he  was  himself  again,  keen,  alert,  vigorous ! 
Suddenly  he  met  the  eyes  of  his  companion  fixed  stead- 
fastly upon  him,  and  his  face  darkened.  There  was  some- 


282  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

thing  ominous  about  this  man's  appearance ;  his  very  presence 
seemed  like  a  foreboding  of  disaster. 

"  I  am  much  obliged  to  you  for  your  little  romance,"  he 
said.  "There  is  one  point,  however,  which  needs  some 
explanation.  If  your  interest  is  really,  as  you  suggest,  at 
an  end,  what  are  you  doing  down  here?  I  presume  that 
your  appearance  is  not  altogether  a  coincidence." 

"  Certainly  not,"  Felix  answered.  "  Let  me  correct  you, 
however,  on  one  trifling  point.  I  said,  you  must  remember 
— my  personal  interest." 

"  I  do  not,"  Mr.  Sabin  remarked,  "  exactly  see  the  dis- 
tinction ;  in  fact,  I  do  not  follow  you  at  all ! " 

"I  am  so  stupid,"  Felix  declared  apologetically.  "I 
ought  to  have  explained  myself  more  clearly.  It  is  even 
possible  that  you,  who  know  everything,  may  yet  be  ignorant 
of  my  present  position." 

"  I  certainly  have  no  knowledge  of  it,"  Mr.  Sabin 
admitted. 

Felix  was  gently  astonished. 

"  Really  !  I  took  it  for  granted,  of  course,  that  you  knew. 
Well,  I  am  employed — not  in  any  important  post,  of  course 
— at  the  Russian  Embassy.  His  Excellency  has  been  very 
kind  to  me." 

Mr.  Sabin  for  once  felt  his  nerve  grow  weak ;  those  evil 
forebodings  of  his  had  very  swiftly  become  verified.  This 
man  was  his  enemy.  Yet  he  recovered  himself  almost  as 
quickly.  What  had  he  to  fear  ?  His  was  still  the  winning 
hand. 

"  I  am  pleased  to  hear,"  he  said,  "  that  you  have  found 
such  creditable  employment.  I  hope  you  will  make  every 
effort  to  retain  it ;  you  have  thrown  away  many  chances." 

Felix  at  first  smiled ;  then  he  leaned  back  amongst  the 
cushions  and  laughed  outright.  When  he  had  ceased,  he 
wiped  the  tears  from  his  eyes.  He  sat  up  again  and  looked 
with  admiration  at  the  still,  pale  figure  opposite  to  him. 


A  LITTLE  GAME  OF  CARDS  283 

"  You  are  inimitable,"  he  said — "  wonderful !  If  you 
live  long  enough,  you  will  certainly  become  very  famous. 
What  will  it  be,  I  wonder — Emperor,  Dictator,  President  of 
a  Republic,  the  Minister  of  an  Emperor?  The  latter  I 
should  imagine;  you  were  always  such  an  aristocrat.  I 
would  not  have  missed  this  journey  for  the  world.  I  am 
longing  to  know  what  you  will  say  to  Prince  Lobenski  at 
King's  Cross." 

Mr.  Sabin  looked  at  him  keenly. 

"  So  you  are  only  a  lacquey  after  all,  then  ?  "  he  remarked 
— "  a  common  spy  !  " 

"  Very  much  at  your  service,"  Felix  answered,  with  a  low 
bow.  "  A  spy,  if  you  like,  engaged  for  the  last  two  weeks 
in  very  closely  watching  your  movements,  and  solving 
the  mystery  of  your  sudden  devotion  to  a  heathenish 
game  !  " 

"  There,  at  any  rate,"  Mr.  Sabin  said  calmly,  "  you  are 
quite  wrong.  If  you  had  watched  my  play  I  flatter  myself 
that  you  would  have  realised  that  my  golf  at  any  rate  was 
no  pretence." 

"I  never  imagined,"  Felix  rejoined,  "that  you  would  be 
anything  but  proficient  at  any  game  in  which  you  cared  to 
interest  yourself;  but  I  never  imagined  either  that  you 
came  to  Cromer  to  play  golf — especially  just  now." 

"  Modern  diplomacy,"  Mr.  Sabin  said,  after  a  brief  pause, 
"  has  undergone,  as  you  may  be  aware,  a  remarkable  trans- 
formation. Secrecy  is  now  quite  out  of  date ;  it  is  the 
custom  amongst  the  masters  to  play  with  the  cards  upon 
the  table." 

"  There  is  a  good  deal  in  what  you  say,"  Felix  answered 
thoughtfully.  "  Come,  we  will  play  the  game,  then  !  It  is 
my  lead.  Very  well !  I  have  been  down  here  watching 
you  continually,  with  the  object  of  discovering  the  source 
of  this  wonderful  power  by  means  of  which  you  are  pre- 
pared to  offer  up  this  country,  bound  hand  and  foot,  to 


284  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

whichever  Power  you  decide  to  make  terms  with.  Sounds 
like  a  fairy  tale,  doesn't  it  ?  But  you  obviously  believe  in 
it  yourself,  and  Lobenski  believes  in  you." 

"  Good  !  "  Mr.  Sabin  declared.  "  That  power  of  which  I 
have  spoken  I  now  possess !  It  was  nearly  complete  a 
month  ago ;  an  hour's  work  now  will  make  it  a  living  and 
invulnerable  fact." 

"You  obtained,"  Felix  said,  "your  final  success  this 
afternoon,  when  you  robbed  the  mad  Admiral." 

Mr.  Sabin  shook  his  head  gently. 

"  I  have  not  robbed  any  one,"  he  said ;  "  I  never  use 
force." 

Felix  looked  at  him  reproachfully. 

"  I  have  heard  much  that  is  evil  about  you,"  he  said, 
"  but  I  have  never  heard  before  that  you  were  known  to — 
to — dear  me,  it  is  a  very  unpleasant  thing  to  say ! " 

"  Well,  sir  ?  " 

"  To  cheat  at  cards  ! " 

Mr.  Sabin  drew  a  short,  little  breath. 

"What  I  have  said  is  true  to  the  letter,"  he  repeated. 
"The  Admiral  gave  me  the  trifling  information  I  asked  for, 
with  his  own  hands." 

Felix  remained  incredulous. 

"Then  you  must  add  the  power  of  hypnotism,"  he 
declared,  "  to  your  other  accomplishments." 

Mr.  Sabin  laughed  scornfully,  nevertheless  he  did  not 
seem  to  be  altogether  at  his  ease.  The  little  scene  in  the 
library  at  Deringham  Hall  was  not  a  pleasant  recollection 
for  him. 

"  The  matter  after  all,"  he  said  coldly,  "  is  unimportant ; 
it  is  merely  a  detail.  I  will  admit  that  you  have  done 
your  spy's  work  well.  Now,  what  will  buy  your  memory, 
and  your  departure  from  this  train,  at  the  next  station  ?  " 

Felix  smiled. 

"  You  are  becoming  more  sensible,"  he  said;  "  it  is  a  very 


A  LITTLE  GAME  OF  CARDS  285 

fair  question  to  ask.  My  price  is  the  faithful  fulfilment  of 
your  contract  with  my  chief." 

"  I  have  made  no  contract  with  him." 

"  You  have  opened  negotiations ;  he  is  ready  to  come  to 
terms  with  you.  You  have  only  to  name  your  price." 

"I  have  no  price,"  Mr.  Sabin  said  quietly,  "that  he 
could  pay." 

"  What  Knigenstein  can  give,"  Felix  said,  "  he  can  give 
double.  The  Secret  Service  funds  of  Russia  are  the  largest 
in  the  world ;  you  can  have  practically  a  blank  cheque  upon 
them." 

"  I  repeat,"  Mr.  Sabin  said,  "  I  have  no  price  that  Prince 
Lobenski  could  pay.  You  talk  as  though  I  were  a  black- 
mailer, or  a  common  thief.  You  have  always  misunder- 
stood me.  Come!  I  will  remember  that  the  cards  are 
upon  the  table ;  I  will  be  wholly  frank  with  you.  It  is 
Knigenstein  with  whom  I  mean  to  treat,  and  not  your 
chief.  He  has  agreed  to  my  terms — Russia  never  could." 

Felix  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

"  You  are  holding,"  he  said,  "  your  trump  card  in  your 
hand.  Whatever  in  this  world  Germany  could  give  you, 
Russia  could  improve  upon." 

"  She  could  do  so,"  Mr.  Sabin  said,  "  only  at  the  expense 
of  her  honour.  Come  !  here  is  that  trump  card.  I  will 
throw  it  upon  the  table ;  now  you  see  that  my  hands  are 
empty.  My  price  is  the  invasion  of  France,  and  the  res- 
toration of  the  Monarchy." 

Felix  looked  at  him  as  a  man  looks  upon  a  lunatic. 

"  You  are  playing  with  me,"  he  cried. 

"  I  was  never  more  in  earnest  in  my  life,"  Mr.  Sabin 
said. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  you — in  cold  blood — are 
working  for  so  visionary,  so  impossible  an  end  ?  " 

"  It  is  neither  visionary,"  Mr.  Sabin  said,  "  nor  impos- 
sible. I  do  not  believe  that  any  man,  save  myself,  properly 


286  MYSTERIOUS  AIR.  SABIN 

appreciates  the  strength  of  the  Royalist  party  in  France. 
Every  day,  every  minute  brings  it  fresh  adherents.  It  is  as 
certain  that  some  day  a  king  will  reign  once  more  at  Ver- 
sailles, as  that  the  sun  will  set  before  many  hours  are  past. 
The  French  people  are  too  bourgeois  at  heart  to  love  a 
republic.  The  desire  for  its  abolition  is  growing  up  in 
their  hearts  day  by  day.  You  understand  me  now  when 
I  say  that  I  cannot  treat  with  your  country  ?  The  honour 
of  Russia  is  bound  up  with  her  friendship  to  France. 
Germany,  on  the  other  hand,  has  ready  her  battle  cry. 
She  and  France  have  been  quivering  on  the  verge  of  war 
for  many  a  year.  My  whole  hand  is  upon  the  table  now, 
Felix.  Look  at  the  cards,  and  tell  me  whether  we  can 
treat ! " 

Felix  was  silent.  He  looked  at  his  opponent  with  un- 
willing admiration  ;  the  man  after  all,  then,  was  great.  For 
the  moment  he  could  think  of  nothing  whatever  to  say. 

"Now,  listen  to  me,"  Mr.  Sabin  continued  earnestly. 
"  I  made  a  great  mistake  when  I  ever  mentioned  the 
matter  to  Prince  Lobenski.  I  cannot  treat  with  him,  but 
on  the  other  hand,  I  do  not  want  to  be  hampered  by  his 
importunities  for  the  next  few  days.  You  have  done  your 
duty,  and  you  have  done  it  well.  It  is  not  your  fault  that 
you  cannot  succeed.  Leave  the  train  at  the  next  station — 
disappear  for  a  week,  and  I  will  give  you  a  fortune.  You 
are  young — the  world  is  before  you.  You  can  seek  dis- 
tinction in  whatever  way  you  will.  I  have  a  cheque-book 
in  my  pocket,  and  a  fountain  pen.  I  will  give  you  an  order 
on  the  Credit  Lyonnaise  for  ^£"20,000." 

Felix  laughed  softly;  his  face  was  full  of  admiration. 
He  looked  at  his  watch,  and  began  to  gather  together 
his  belongings. 

"  Write  out  the  cheque,"  he  said ;  "  I  agree.  We  shall  be 
at  the  iunction  in  about  ten  minutes." 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

THE  MODERN   RICHELIEU 

"  So  I  have  found  you  at  last ! " 

Mr.  Sabin  looked  up  with  a  distinct  start  from  the  table 
where  he  sat  writing.  When  he  saw  who  his  visitor  was,  he 
set  down  his  pen  and  rose  to  receive  her  at  once.  He  per- 
mitted himself  to  indulge  in  a  little  gesture  of  relief;  her 
noiseless  entrance  had  filled  him  with  a  sudden  fear. 

"  My  dear  Helene,"  he  said,  placing  a  chair  for  her,  "  if 
I  had  had  the  least  idea  that  you  wished  to  see  me,  I  would 
have  let  you  know  my  whereabouts.  I  am  sorry  that  you 
should  have  had  any  difficulty ;  you  should  have  written." 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders  slightly. 

"What  does  it  all  mean?"  she  asked.  "Why  are  you 
masquerading  in  cheap  lodgings,  and  why  do  they  say  at 
Kensington  that  you  have  gone  abroad  ?  Have  things 
gone  wrong?" 

He  turned  and  faced  her  directly.  She  saw  then  that 
pale  and  haggard  though  he  was,  his  was  not  the  counte- 
nance of  a  man  tasting  the  bitterness  of  failure. 

"Very  much  the  contrary,"  he  said;  "we  are  on  the 
brink  of  success.  All  that  remains  to  be  done  is  the  fitting 
together  of  my  American  work  with  the  last  of  these  papers. 
It  will  take  me  about  another  twenty-four  hours." 

She  handed  across  to  him  a  morning  newspaper,  which 
287 


288  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

she  had  been  carrying  in  her  muff.  A  certain  paragraph 
was  marked. 

"  We  regret  to  state  that  Admiral,  the  Earl  of  Deringham, 
was  seized  yesterday  morning  with  a  fit,  whilst  alone  in  his 
study.  Dr.  Bond,  of  Harley  Street,  was  summoned  at  once 
to  a  consultation,  but  we  understand  that  the  case  is  a 
critical  one,  and  the  gravest  fears  are  entertained.  Lord 
Deringham  was  the  greatest  living  authority  upon  the  subject 
of  our  fleet  and  coast  defences,  and  we  are  informed  that  at 
the  time  of  his  seizure  he  was  completing  a  very  important 
work  in  connection  with  this  subject." 

Mr.  Sabin  read  the  paragraph  slowly,  and  then  handed 
the  paper  back  to  Helene. 

"  Deringham  was  a  very  distinguished  man,"  he  re- 
marked, "but  he  was  stark  mad,  and  has  been  for  years. 
They  have  been  able  to  keep  it  quiet,  only  because  he  was 
harmless." 

"You  remember  what  I  told  you  about  these  people," 
Helene  said  sternly;  "I  told  you  distinctly  that  I  would 
not  have  them  harmed  in  any  way.  You  were  at  Deringham 
Hall  on  the  morning  of  his  seizure.  You  went  straight 
there  from  the  Lodge." 

"  That  is  quite  true,"  he  admitted ;  "  but  I  had  nothing 
to  do  with  his  illness." 

"I  wish  I  could  feel  quite  certain  of  that,"  Helene 
answered.  "You  are  a  very  determined  man,  and  you 
went  there  to  get  papers  from  him  by  any  means.  You 
proved  that  you  were  altogether  reckless  as  to  how  you  got 
them,  by  your  treatment  of  Lord  Wolfenden.  You  suc- 
ceeded !  No  one  living  knows  by  what  means  ! " 

He  interrupted  her  with  an  impatient  gesture. 

"  There  is  nothing  in  this  worth  discussion,"  he  declared. 
"  Lord  Deringham  is  nothing  to  you — you  never  even  saw 
him  in  your  life,  and  if  you  really  have  any  misgivings 
about  it,  I  can  assure,  you  that  I  got  what  I  wanted  from 


THE  MODERN  RICHELIEU  289 

him  without  violence.  It  is  not  a  matter  for  you  to  concern 
yourself  in,  nor  is  it  a  matter  worth  considering  at  all, 
especially  at  such  a  time  as  the  present." 

She  sat  quite  still,  her  head  resting  upon  her  gloved 
hand.  He  did  not  altogether  like  her  appearance. 

"  I  want  you  to  understand,"  he  continued  slowly,  "  that 
success,  absolute  success  is  ours.  I  have  the  personal 
pledge  of  the  German  Emperor,  signed  by  his  own  hand. 
To-morrow  at  noon  the  compact  is  concluded.  In  a  few 
weeks,  at  the  most,  the  thunderbolt  will  have  fallen. 
These  arrogant  Islanders  will  be  facing  a  great  invasion, 
whose  success  is  already  made  absolutely  sure.  And 
then " 

He  paused  :  his  face  kindled  with  a  passionate  enthu- 
siasm, his  eyes  were  lit  with  fire.  There  was  something 
great  in  the  man's  rapt  expression. 

"Then,  the  only  true,  the  only  sweet  battle-cry  in  the 
French  tongue,  will  ring  through  the  woods  of  Brittany, 
ay,  even  to  the  walls  of  Paris.  Vive  la  France  !  Vive  la 
Monarchic ! " 

"France  has  suffered  so  much,"  she  murmured;  "do 
not  you  who  love  her  so  tremble  when  you  think  of  her 
rivers  running  once  more  red  with  blood  ?  " 

"  If  there  be  war  at  all,"  he  answered,  "  it  will  be  brief. 
Year  by  year  the  loyalists  have  gained  power  and  influence. 
I  have  notes  here  from  secret  agents  in  every  town,  almost 
in  every  village ;  the  great  heart  of  Paris  is  with  us.  Henri 
will  only  have  to  show  himself,  and  the  voice  of  the  people 
will  shout  him  king  !  And  you " 

"  For  me,"  she  interrupted,  "  nothing !  I  withdraw ! 
I  will  not  marry  Henri,  he  must  stand  his  chance  alone ! 
His  is  the  elder  branch — he  is  the  direct  heir  to  the  throne ! " 

Mr.  Sabin  drew  in  a  long  breath  between  his  teeth.  He 
was  nerving  himself  for  a  great  effort.  This  fear  had  been 
the  one  small,  black  cloud  in  the  sky  of  his  happiness. 

19 


2QO  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"  Helena,"  he  said,  "  if  I  believed  that  you  meant — that 
you  could  possibly  mean — what  you  have  this  moment 
said,  I  would  tear  my  compact  in  two,  throw  this  box 
amongst  the  flames,  and  make  my  bow  to  my  life's  work. 
But  you  do  not  mean  it.  You  will  change  your  mind." 

•'  But  indeed  I  shall  not ! " 

"Of  necessity  you  must;  the  alliance  between  you  and 
Henri  is  absolutely  compulsory.  You  unite  the  two  great 
branches  of  our  royal  family.  The  sound  of  your  name, 
coupled  with  his,  will  recall  to  the  ears  of  France  all  that 
was  most  glorious  in  her  splendid  history.  And  apart  from 
that,  Henri  needs  such  a  woman  as  you  for  his  queen. 
He  has  many  excellent  qualities,  but  he  is  weak,  a  trifle 
too  easy,  a  trifle  thoughtless." 

"  He  is  a  dissipated  roue,"  she  said  in  a  low  tone,  with 
curling  lip. 

Mr.  Sabin,  who  had  been  walking  restlessly  up  and  down 
the  room,  came  and  stood  over  her,  leaning  upon  his 
wonderful  stick. 

"  Helene,"  he  said  gravely,  "  for  your  own  sake,  and  for 
your  country's  sake,  I  charge  you  to  consider  well  what  you 
are  doing.  What  does  it  matter  to  you  if  Henri  is  even  as 
bad  as  you  say,  which,  mark  you,  I  deny.  He  is  the  King  of 
France !  Personally,  you  can  be  strangers  if  you  please, 
but  marry  him  you  must.  You  need  not  be  his  wife,  but 
you  must  be  his  queen  !  Almost  you  make  me  ask  myself 
whether  I  am  talking  to  Helene  of  Bourbon,  a  Princess 
Royal  of  France,  or  to  a  love-sick  English  country  girl, 
pining  for  a  sweetheart,  whose  highest  ambition  it  is  to  bear 
children,  and  whose  destiny  is  to  become  a  drudge.  May 
God  forbid  it !  May  God  forbid,  that  after  all  these  years 
of  darkness  you  should  play  me  false  now  when  the  dawn 
is  already  lightening  the  sky.  Sink  your  sex !  Forget  it ! 
Remember  that  you  are  more  than  a  woman — you  are  royal, 
and  your  country  has  the  first  claim  upon  your  heart.  The 


THE  MODERN  RICHELIEU  291 

dignity  which  exalts  demands  also  sacrifices !  Think  of 
your  great  ancestors,  who  died  with  this  prayer  upon  their 
lips — that  one  day  their  children's  children  should  win 
again  the  throne  which  they  had  lost.  Their  eyes  may  be 
upon  you  at  this  moment.  Give  me  a  single  reason  for 
this  change  in  you — one  single  valid  reason,  and  I  will  say 
no  more." 

She  was  silent ;  the  colour  was  coming  and  going  in  her 
cheeks.  She  was  deeply  moved ;  the  honest  passion  in  his 
tone  had  thrilled  her. 

"I  would  not  dare  to  suggest,  even  in  a  whisper,  to 
myself,"  he  went  on,  his  dark  eyes  fixed  upon  her,  and  his 
voice  lowered,  "that  Helene  of  Bourbon,  Princess  of 
Brittany,  could  set  a  greater  price  upon  the  love  of  a 
man — and  that  man  an  Englishman — than  upon  her 
country's  salvation.  I  would  not  even  suffer  so  dishonour- 
ing a  thought  to  creep  into  my  brain.  Yet  I  will  remember 
that  you  are  a  girl — a  woman — that  is  to  say,  a  creature  of 
strange  moods ;  and  I  remind  you  that  the  marriage  of  a 
queen  entails  only  the  giving  of  a  hand,  her  heart  remains 
always  at  her  disposal,  and  never  yet  has  a  queen  of 
France  been  without  her  lover !  " 

She  looked  up  at  him  with  burning  cheeks. 

"  You  have  spoken  bitterly  to  me,"  she  said,  "  but  from 
your  point  of  view  I  have  deserved  it.  Perhaps  I  have 
been  weak ;  after  all,  men  are  not  so  very  different.  They 
are  all  ignoble.  You  are  right  when  you  call  us  women 
creatures  of  moods.  To-day  I  should  prefer  the  convent 
to  marriage  with  any  man.  But  listen !  If  you  can 
persuade  me  that  my  marriage  with  Henri  is  necessary  for 
his  acceptance  by  the  people  of  France,  if  I  am  assured  of 
that,  I  will  yield." 

Mr.  Sabin  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief,  Blanche  had 
succeeded,  then.  Even  in  that  moment  he  found  time  to 
realise  that,  without  her  aid,  he  would  have  run  a  terrible 


292  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

risk  of  failure.  He  sat  down  and  spoke  calmly,  but  im- 
pressively. 

"  From  my  point  of  view,"  he  said,  "  and  I  have  con- 
sidered the  subject  exhaustively,  I  believe  that  it  is 
absolutely  necessary.  You  and  Henri  represent  the  two 
great  Houses,  who  might,  with  almost  equal  right,  claim  the 
throne.  The  result  of  your  union  must  be  perfect  unanimity. 
Now,  suppose  that  Henri  stands  alone ;  don't  you  see  that 
your  cousin,  Louis  of  Bourbon,  is  almost  as  near  in  the 
direct  line  ?  He  is  young  and  impetuous,  without  ballast, 
but  I  believe  ambitious.  He  would  be  almost  sure  to 
assert  himself.  At  any  rate,  his  very  existence  would  cer- 
tainly lead  to  factions,  and  the  splitting  up  of  nobles  into 
parties.  This  is  the  greatest  evil  we  could  possibly  have  to 
face.  There  must  be  no  dissensions  whatever  during  the 
first  generation  of  the  re-established  monarchy.  The 
country  would  not  be  strong  enough  to  bear  it.  With  you 
married  to  Henri,  the  two  great  Houses  of  Bourbon  and 
Ortrens  are  allied.  Against  their  representative  there  would 
be  no  one  strong  enough  to  lift  a  hand.  Have  I  made  it 
clear?" 

"  Yes,"  the  girl  answered,  "  you  have  made  it  very  clear. 
Will  you  let  me  consider  for  a  few  moments  ?  " 

She  sat  there  with  her  back  half-turned  to  him,  gazing 
into  the  fire.  He  moved  back  in  the  chair  and  went  on 
with  his  writing.  She  heard  the  lightning  rush  of  his  pen, 
as  he  covered  sheet  after  sheet  of  paper  without  even 
glancing  towards  her ;  he  had  no  more  to  say,  he  knew 
very  well  that  his  work  was  done.  The  influence  of  his 
words  were  strong  upon  her ;  in  her  heart  they  had 
awakened  some  echo  of  those  old  ambitions  which  had 
once  been  very  real  and  live  things.  She  set  herself  the 
task  of  fanning  them  once  more  with  the  fire  of  enthusiasm. 
For  she  had  no  longer  any  doubts  as  to  her  duty. 
Wolfenden's  words — the  first  spoken  words  of  love  which 


THE  MODERN  RICHELIEU  293 

had  ever  been  addressed  to  her — had  carried  with  them  at 
the  time  a  peculiar  and  a  very  sweet  conviction.  She  had 
lost  faith,  too,  in  Mr.  Sabin  and  his  methods.  She  had 
begun  to  wonder  whether  he  was  not  after  all  a  visionary, 
whether  there  was  really  the  faintest  chance  of  the  people 
of  her  country  ever  being  stirred  into  a  return  to  their  old 
faith  and  allegiance.  Wolfenden's  appearance  had  been 
for  him  singularly  opportune,  and  she  had  almost  decided 
a  few  mornings  ago,  that,  after  all,  there  was  not  any  real 
bar  between  them.  She  was  a  princess,  but  of  a  fallen 
House ;  he  was  a  nobleman  of  the  most  powerful  country  in 
the  world.  She  had  permitted  herself  to  care  for  him  a 
little ;  she  was  astonished  to  find  how  swiftly  that  sensation 
had  grown  into  something  which  had  promised  to  become 
very  real  and  precious  to  her — and  then,  this  insolent  girl 
had  come  to  her — her  photograph  was  in  his  locket.  He 
was  like  Henri,  and  all  the  others  !  She  despised  herself 
for  the  heartache  of  which  she  was  sadly  conscious.  Her 
cheeks  burned  with  shame,  and  her  heart  was  hot  with  rage, 
when  she  thought  of  the  kiss  she  had  given  him — perhaps 
he  had  even  placed  her  upon  a  level  with  the  typewriting 
girl,  had  dared  to  consider  her,  too,  as  a  possible  plaything 
for  his  idle  moments.  She  set  her  teeth,  and  her  eyes 
flashed. 

Mr.  Sabin,  as  his  pen  flew  over  the  paper,  felt  a  touch 
upon  his  arm. 

"  I  am  quite  convinced,"  she  said.  "  When  the  time 
comes  I  shall  be  ready." 

He  looked  up  with  a  faint,  but  gratified  smile. 

"  I  had  no  fear  of  you,"  he  said.  "  Frankly,  in  Henri 
alone  I  should  have  been  destitute  of  confidence.  I  should 
not  have  laboured  as  I  have  done,  but  for  you  !  In  your 
hands,  largely,  the  destinies  of  your  country  will  remain." 

"  I  shall  do  my  duty,"  she  answered  quietly. 

"  I  always  knew  it !    And  now,"  he  said,  looking  back 


294  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

towards  his  papers,  "how  about  the  present?  I  do  not 
want  you  here.  Your  presence  would  certainly  excite 
comment,  and  I  am  virtually  in  hiding  for  the  next  twenty- 
four  hours." 

"  The  Duchess  of  Montegarde  arrived  in  London  yester- 
day," she  replied.  "  I  am  going  to  her." 

"  You  could  not  do  a  wiser  thing,"  he  declared.  "  Send 
your  address  to  Avon  House ;  to-morrow  night  or  Saturday 
night  I  shall  come  for  you.  All  will  be  settled  then ;  we 
shall  have  plenty  to  do,  but  after  the  labour  of  the  last 
seven  years  it  will  not  seem  like  work.  It  will  be  the 
beginning  of  the  harvest." 

She  looked  at  him  thoughtfully. 

"  And  your  reward,"  she  said,  "  what  is  that  to  be  ?  " 

He  smiled. 

"  I  will  not  pretend,"  he  answered,  "  that  I  have  worked 
for  the  love  of  my  country  and  my  order  alone.  I  also  am 
ambitious,  although  my  ambition  is  more  patriotic  than 
personal.  I  mean  to  be  first  Minister  of  France ! " 

"  You  will  deserve  it,"  she  said.  "  You  are  a  very 
wonderful  man." 

She  walked  out  into  the  street,  and  entered  the  cab 
which  she  had  ordered  to  wait  for  her. 

"Fourteen,  Grosvenor  Square,"  she  told  the  man,  "but 
call  at  the  first  telegraph  office." 

He  set  her  down  in  a  few  minutes.  She  entered  a  small 
post-office  and  stood  for  a  moment  before  one  of  the  com- 
partments. Then  she  drew  a  form  towards  her,  and  wrote 
out  a  telegram — 

"To  Lord  Wolfenden, 

"  Deringham  Hall, 

"  Norfolk. 

"I  cannot  send  for  you  as  I  promised.  Farewell. — 
HELENE." 


CHAPTER    XXXVII 

FOR   A   GREAT   STAKE 

« GERMANY'S   INSULT  TO   ENGLAND! 

ENGLAND'S   REPLY. 
MOBILISATION   IMMINENT. 

ARMING  OF  THE  FLEET. 
WAR  ALMOST  CERTAIN!" 

Wolfenden,  who  had  bought  no  paper  on  his  way  up 
from  Norfolk,  gazed  with  something  approaching  amaze- 
ment at  the  huge  placards  everywhere  displayed  along  the 
Strand,  thrust  into  his  cab  by  adventurous  newsboys,  flaunt- 
ing upon  every  lamp-post.  He  alighted  near  Trafalgar 
Square,  and  purchased  a  Globe.  The  actual  facts  were 
meagre  enough,  but  significant  when  considered  in  the 
light  of  a  few  days  ago.  A  vacancy  had  occurred  upon 
the  throne  of  one  of  England's  far  off  dependencies.  The 
British  nominee  had  been  insulted  in  his  palace  by  the 
German  consul — a  rival,  denounced  as  rebel  by  the 
authorities,  had  been  carried  off  in  safety  on  to  a  German 
gunboat,  and  accorded  royal  honours.  The  thing  was 
trivial  as  it  stood,  but  its  importance  had  been  enhanced  a 
thousandfold  by  later  news.  The  German  Emperor  had 
sent  a  telegram,  approving  his  consul's  action  and  forbid- 

395 


296  ILfYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

ding  him  to  recognise  the  new  sovereign.  There  was  no 
possibility  of  misinterpreting  such  an  action ;  it  was  an 
overt  and  deliberate  insult,  the  second  within  a  week. 
Wolfenden  read  the  news  upon  the  pavements  of  Pall 
Mall,  jostled  from  right  to  left  by  hurrying  passers  by, 
conscious  too,  all  the  while,  of  that  subtle  sense  of  excite- 
ment which  was  in  the  air  and  was  visibly  reflected  in  the 
faces  of  the  crowd.  He  turned  into  his  club,  and  here  he 
found  even  a  deeper  note  of  the  prevailing  fever.  Men 
were  gathered  around  the  tape  in  little  clusters,  listening 
to  the  click  click  of  the  instrument,  and  reading  aloud  the 
little  items  of  news  as  they  appeared.  There  was  a  burst  of 
applause  when  the  Prime  Minister's  dignified  and  peremp- 
tory demand  for  an  explanation  eked  out  about  four  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon — an  hour  later  it  was  rumoured  that  the 
German  Ambassador  had  received  his  papers.  The  Stock 
Exchange  remained  firm — there  was  enthusiasm,  but  no 
panic.  Wolfenden  began  to  wish  that  he,  too,  were  a 
soldier,  as  he  passed  from  one  to  another  of  the  eager 
groups  of  young  men  about  his  own  age,  eagerly  discussing 
the  chances  of  the  coming  campaign.  He  walked  out  into 
the  streets  presently,  and  made  his  way  boldly  down  to  the 
house  which  had  been  pointed  out  to  him  as  the  town 
abode  of  Mr.  Sabin  and  his  niece.  He  found  it  shut  up 
and  apparently  empty.  The  servant,  who  after  some  time 
answered  his  numerous  ringings,  was,  either  from  design  or 
chance,  more  than  usually  stupid.  He  could  not  tell  where 
Mr.  Sabin  was  or  when  he  would  return — he  seemed  to 
have  no  information  whatever  as  regards  the  young  lady. 
Wolfenden  turned  away  in  despair  and  walked  slowly  back 
towards  Pall  Mall.  At  the  bottom  of  Piccadilly  he  stopped 
for  a  moment  to  let  a  little  stream  of  carriages  pass  by ;  he 
was  about  to  cross  the  road  when  a  large  barouche,  with 
a  pair  of  restive  horses,  again  blocked  the  way.  Attracted 
by  an  unknown  coronet  upon  the  panel,  and  the  quiet 


FOR  A  GREAT  STAKE  297 

magnificence  of  the  servants'  liveries,  he  glanced  curiously 
at  the  occupants  as  the  carriage  passed  him.  It  was  one 
of  the  surprises  of  his  life.  The  woman  nearest  to  him  he 
knew  well  by  sight ;  she  was  the  Duchess  de  Montegarde, 
one  of  the  richest  and  most  famous  of  Frenchwomen — a 
woman  often  quoted  as  exactly  typical  of  the  old  French 
nobility,  and  who  had  furthermore  gained  for  herself  a 
personal  reputation  for  delicate  and  aristocratic  exclusive- 
ness,  not  altogether  shared  by  her  compeers  in  English 
society.  By  her  side — in  the  seat  of  honour — was  Helene, 
and  opposite  to  them  was  a  young  man  with  a  dark,  fiercely 
twisted  moustache  and  distinctly  foreign  appearance.  They 
passed  slowly,  and  Wolfenden  remained  upon  the  edge  of 
the  pavement  with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  them. 

He  was  conscious  at  once  of  something  about  her  which 
seemed  strange  to  him — some  new  development.  She 
leaned  back  in  her  seat,  barely  pretending  to  listen  to  the 
young  man's  conversation,  her  lips  a  little  curled,  her  own 
face  the  very  prototype  of  aristocratic  languor  !  All  the 
lines  of  race  were  in  her  delicately  chiselled  features ;  the 
mere  idea  of  regarding  her  as  the  niece  of  the  unknown 
Mr.  Sabin  seemed  just  then  almost  ridiculous.  The  car- 
riage went  by  without  her  seeing  him — she  appeared  to 
have  no  interest  whatever  in  the  passers-by.  But  Wolfenden 
remained  there  without  moving  until  a  touch  on  the  arm 
recalled  him  to  himself. 

He  turned  abruptly  round,  and  to  his  amazement  found 
himself  shaking  hands  vigorously  with  Densham  ! 

"  Where  on  earth  did  you  spring  from,  old  chap  ?  "  he 
asked.  "  Dick  said  that  you  had  gone  abroad." 

Densham  smiled  a  little  sadly. 

"  I  was  on  my  way,"  he  said,  "  when  I  heard  the  war 
rumours.  There  seemed  to  be  something  in  it,  so  I  came 
back  as  fast  as  express  trains  and  steamers  would  bring 
me.  I  only  landed  in  England  this  morning.  I  am 


298  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

applying   for  the  post   of  correspondent    to   the  London 
News." 

Wolfenden  sighed. 

"  I  would  give  the  world,"  he  said,  "  for  some  such  ex- 
citement as  that ! " 

Densham  drew  his  hand  through  Wolfenden's  arm. 

"  I  saw  whom  you  were  watching  just  now,"  he  said. 
"  She  is  as  beautiful  as  ever ! " 

Wolfenden  turned  suddenly  round. 

"  Densham,"  he  said,  "  you  know  who  she  is — tell  me." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  have  not  found  out  ?  " 

"  I  do !  I  know  her  better,  but  still  only  as  Mr.  Sabin's 
niece ! " 

Densham  was  silent  for  several  moments.  He  felt 
Wolfenden's  fingers  gripping  his  arm  nervously. 

"  Well,  I  do  not  see  that  I  should  be  betraying  any  con- 
fidence now,"  he  said.  "  The  promise  I  gave  was  only 
binding  for  a  short  time,  and  now  that  she  is  to  be  seen 
openly  with  the  Duchess  de  Montegarde,  I  suppose  the 
embargo  is  removed.  The  young  lady  is  the  Princess 
Helene  Frances  de  Bourbon,  and  the  young  man  is  her 
betrothed  husband,  the  Prince  of  Ortrens  !  " 

Piccadilly  became  suddenly  a  vague  and  shadowy 
thoroughfare  to  Wolfenden.  He  was  not  quite  sure 
whether  his  footsteps  even  reached  the  pavement.  Dens- 
ham hastened  him  into  the  club  and,  installing  him  into 
an  easy  chair,  called  for  brandies  and  soda. 

"Poor  old  Wolf!"  he  said  softly.  "I'm  afraid  you're 
like  I  was — very  hard  hit.  Here,  drink  this  !  I'm  beastly 
sorry  I  told  you,  but  I  certainly  thought  that  you  would 
have  had  some  idea." 

"  I  have  been  a  thick-headed  idiot ! "  Wolfenden  ex- 
claimed. "  There  have  been  heaps  of  things  from  which 
I  might  have  guessed  something  near  the  truth,  at  any  rate. 
What  a  fool  she  must  have  thought  me  I " 


FOR  A  GREAT  STAKE  299 

The  two  men  were  silent.  Outside  in  the  street  there 
was  a  rush  for  a  special  edition,  and  a  half  cheer  rang  in 
the  room.  A  waiter  entered  with  a  handful  of  copies  which 
were  instantly  seized  upon.  Wolfenden  secured  one  and 
read  the  headings. 

"  MOBILIZATION   DECLARED. 

ALL  LEAVE  CANCELLED. 
CABINET  COUNCIL  STILL  SITTING." 

"Densham,  do  you  realise  that  we  are  really  in  for 
war?" 

Densham  nodded. 

"  I  don't  think  there  can  be  any  doubt  about  it  myself. 
What  a  thunderbolt !  By  the  bye,  where  is  your  friend, 
Mr.  Sabin?" 

Wolfenden  shook  his  head. 

"  I  do  not  know ;  I  came  to  London  partially  to  see 
him.  I  have  an  account  to  settle  when  we  do  meet ;  at 
present  he  has  disappeared.  Densham  !  " 

"Well!" 

'If  Miss  Sabin  has  become  the  Princess  Helene  of 
Bourbon,  who  is  Mr.  Sabin  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  sure,"  Densham  answered,  "  I  have  been 
looking  into  the  genealogy  of  the  family,  and  if  he  is  really 
her  uncle,  there  is  only  one  man  whom  he  can  be — the 
Duke  de  Souspennier  !  " 

"  Souspennier ! "  Wasn't  he  banished  from  France  for 
something  or  other — intriguing  for  the  restoration  of  the 
Monarchy,  I  think  it  was  ? " 

Densham  nodded. 

"  Yes,  he  disappeared  at  the  time  of  the  Commune,  and 
since  then  he  is  supposed  to  have  been  in  Asia  somewhere. 
He  has  quite  a  history,  I  believe,  and  at  different  times  has 


300  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

been  involved  in  several  European  complications.  I 
shouldn't  be  at  all  surprised  if  he  isn't  our  man.  Mr. 
Sabin  has  rather  the  look  of  a  man  who  has  travelled  in 
the  East,  and  he  is  certainly  an  aristocrat." 

Wolfenden  was  suddenly  thoughtful. 

"  Harcutt  would  be  very  much  interested  in  this,"  he 
declared.  "  What's  up  outside  ?  " 

There  had  been  a  crash  in  the  street,  and  the  sound  of  a 
horse  plunging ;  the  two  men  walked  to  the  windows.  The 
debris  of  a  hansom  was  lying  in  the  road,  with  one  wheel 
hopelessly  smashed,  a  few  yards  off.  A  man,  covered  with 
mud,  rose  slowly  up  from  the  wreck.  Densham  and 
Wolfenden  simultaneously  recognised  him. 

"  It  is  Felix,"  Wolfenden  exclaimed.     "  Come  on  ! " 

They  both  hurried  out  into  the  street.  The  driver  of  the 
hansom,  who  also  was  covered  with  mud,  stood  talking  to 
Felix  while  staunching  the  blood  from  a  wound  in  his 
forehead. 

"  I'm  very  sorry,  sir,"  he  was  saying,  "  I  hope  you'll 
remember  as  it  was  your  orders  to  risk  an  accident,  sooner 
than  lose  sight  of  t'other  gent.  Mine's  a  good  'oss,  but 
what  is  he  against  a  pair  and  a  light  brougham? 
and  Piccadilly  ain't  the  place  for  a  chase  of  this  sort !  It'll 
cost  me  three  pun  ten,  sir,  to  say  nothing  of  the  wheel — 

Felix  motioned  him  impatiently  to  be  silent,  and  thrust 
a  note  into  his  hand. 

"If  the  damage  comes  to  more  than  that,"  he  said,  "ask 
for  me  at  the  Russian  Embassy,  and  I  will  pay  it.  Here  is 
my  card." 

Felix  was  preparing  to  enter  another  cab,  but  Wolfenden 
laid  his  hand  upon  his  shoulder. 

"  Won't  you  come  into  my  club  here,  and  have  a  wash  ?  " 
he  suggested.  "  I  am  afraid  that  you  have  cut  your  cheek." 

Felix  raised  his  handkerchief  to  his  face,  and  found  it 
covered  with  blood. 


FOR  A  GREAT  STAKE  301 

"  Thank  you,  Lord  Wolfenden,"  he  said,  "  I  should  be 
glad  to ;  you  seem  destined  always  to  play  the  part  of  the 
Good  Samaritan  to  me  !  " 

They  both  went  with  him  into  the  lavatory. 

"  Do  you  know,"  he  asked  Wolfenden,  when  he  had 
sponged  his  face,  "  whom  I  was  following?  " 

Wolfenden  shook  his  head. 

"  Mr.  Sabin  ?  "  he  suggested. 

"  Not  Mr.  Sabin  himself,"  Felix  answered,  "  but  almost 
the  same  thing.  It  was  Foo  Cha,  his  Chinese  servant  who 
has  just  arrived  in  England.  Have  you  any  idea  where 
Mr.  Sabin  is?" 

They  both  shook  their  heads. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  Wolfenden  said,  "  but  I  am  very 
anxious  to  find  out.  I  have  an  account  to  settle  with  him  !" 

"  And  I,"  Felix  murmured  in  a  low  tone,  "  have  a  very 
much  longer  one  against  him.  To-night,  if  I  am  not  too 
late,  there  will  be  a  balance  struck  between  us !  I  have 
lost  Foo  Cha,  but  others,  better  skilled  than  I  am,  are  in 
search  of  his  master.  They  will  succeed,  too !  They 
always  succeed.  What  have  you  against  him,  Lord 
Wolfenden?" 

Wolfenden  hesitated ;  yet  why  not  tell  the  man  the  truth  ? 
He  had  nothing  to  gain  by  concealment. 

"  He  forced  himself  into  my  father's  house  in  Norfolk 
and  obtained,  either  by  force  or  craft,  some  valuable  papers. 
My  father  was  in  delicate  health,  and  we  fear  that  the  shock 
will  cost  him  his  reason." 

"  Do  you  want  to  know  what  they  were  ?  "  Felix  said. 
"  I  can  tell  you  !  Do  you  want  to  know  what  he  required 
them  for  ?  I  can  tell  you  that  too  !  He  has  concocted  a 
marvellous  scheme,  and  if  he  is  left  to  himself  for  another 
hour  or  two,  he  will  succeed.  But  I  have  no  fear ;  I  have 
set  working  a  mightier  machinery  than  even  he  can  grapple 
with ! " 


302  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

They  had  walked  together  into  the  smoke-room ;  Felix 
seemed  somewhat  shaken  and  was  glad  to  rest  for  a  few 
minutes. 

"  Has  he  outstepped  the  law,  been  guilty  of  any  crime  ?  " 
Wolfenden  asked  ;  "  he  is  daring  enough  ! " 

Felix  laughed  shortly.  He  was  lighting  a  cigarette,  but 
his  hand  trembled  so  that  he  could  scarcely  hold  the 
match. 

"  A  further  reaching  arm  than  the  law,"  he  said,  dropping 
his  voice,  "more  powerful  than  governments.  Even  by 
this  time  his  whereabouts  is  known.  If  we  are  only  in  time ; 
that  is  the  only  fear." 

"  Cannot  you  tell  us,"  Wolfenden  asked,  "  something  of 
this  wonderful  scheme  of  his — why  was  he  so  anxious  to 
get  those  papers  and  drawings  from  my  father — to  what 
purpose  can  he  possibly  put  them  ?" 

Felix  hesitated. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  why  not  ?  You  have  a  right  to  know. 
Understand  that  I  myself  have  only  the  barest  outline  of  it ; 
I  will  tell  you  this,  however.  Mr.  Sabin  is  the  Due  de 
Souspennier,  a  Frenchman  of  fabulous  wealth,  who  has 
played  many  strange  parts  in  European  history.  Amongst 
other  of  his  accomplishments,  he  is  a  mechanical  and 
strategical  genius.  He  has  studied  under  Addison  in 
America,  one  subject  only,  for  three  years — the  destruction 
of  warships  and  fortifications  by  electrical  contrivances  un- 
known to  the  general  world.  Then  he  came  to  England, 
and  collected  a  vast  amount  of  information  concerning  your 
navy  and  coast  defences  in  many  different  ways — finally  he 
sent  a  girl  to  play  the  part  of  typist  to  your  father,  whom 
he  knew  to  be  the  greatest  living  authority  upon  all  naval 
matters  connected  with  your  country.  Every  line  he  wrote 
was  copied  and  sent  to  Mr.  Sabin,  until  by  some  means 
your  father's  suspicions  were  aroused,  and  the  girl  was 
dismissed.  The  last  portion  of  your  father's  work  con- 


FOR  A  GREAT  STAKE  303 

sisted  of  a  set  of  drawings,  of  no  fewer  than  twenty-seven 
of  England's  finest  vessels,  every  one  of  which  has  a  large 
proportion  of  defective  armour  plating,  which  would  render 
the  vessels  utterly  useless  in  case  of  war.  These  drawings 
show  the  exact  position  of  the  defective  plates,  and  it  was 
to  secure  these  illustrations  that  Mr.  Sabin  paid  that  daring 
visit  to  your  father  on  Tuesday  morning.  Now,  what  he 
professes  broadly  is  that  he  has  elaborated  a  scheme,  by 
means  of  which,  combined  with  the  aid  of  his  inventions, 
a  few  torpedo  boats  can  silence  every  fort  in  the  Thames, 
and  leave  London  at  the  mercy  of  any  invaders.  At  the 
same  time  his  plans  include  the  absolutely  safe  landing  of 
troops  on  the  east  and  south  coast,  at  certain  selected  spots. 
This  scheme,  together  with  some  very  alarming  secret 
information  affecting  the  great  majority  of  your  battleships, 
will,  he  asserts  with  absolute  confidence,  place  your  country 
at  the  mercy  of  any  Power  to  whom  he  chooses  to  sell  it. 
He  offered  it  to  Russia  first,  and  then  to  Germany.  Ger- 
many has  accepted  his  terms  and  will  declare  war  upon 
England  the  moment  she  has  his  whole  scheme  and  inven- 
tions in  her  possession." 

Wolfenden  and  Densham  looked  at  one  another,  partly 
incredulous,  partly  aghast.  It  was  like  a  page  from  the 
Arabian  Nights.  Surely  such  a  thing  as  this  was  not 
possible.  Yet  even  that  short  silence  was  broken  by  the 
cry  of  the  newsboys  out  in  the  street — 

"GERMANY    ARMING! 
REPORTED  DECLARATION  OF  WAR!" 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

THE   MEN   WHO   SAVED   ENGLAND 

MR.  SABIN  leaned  back  in  his  chair  with  a  long,  deep  sigh 
of  content.  The  labour  of  years  was  concluded  at  last. 
With  that  final  little  sketch  his  work  was  done.  A  pile  of 
manuscripts  and  charts  lay  before  him  ;  everything  was  in 
order.  He  took  a  bill  of  lading  from  his  letter-case,  and 
pinned  it  carefully  to  the  rest.  Then  he  glanced  at  his 
watch,  and,  taking  a  cigarette-case  from  his  pocket,  began 
to  smoke. 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  Mr.  Sabin,  who 
had  recognised  the  approaching  footsteps,  glanced  up  care- 
lessly. 

"  What  is  it,  Foo  Cha  ?  I  told  you  that  I  would  ring 
when  I  wanted  you." 

The  Chinaman  glided  to  his  side. 

"  Master,"  he  said  softly,  "  I  have  fears.  There  is  some- 
thing not  good  in  the  air." 

Mr.  Sabin  turned  sharply  around. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  he  asked. 

Foo  Cha  was  apologetic  but  serious. 

"  Master,  I  was  followed  from  the  house  of  the  German 
by  a  man,  who  drove  fast  after  me  in  a  two-wheeled  cab. 
He  lost  me  on  the  way,  but  there  are  others.  I  have  been 
into  the  street,  and  I  am  sure  of  it.  The  house  is  being 

watched  on  all  sides." 

304 


THE  MEN  WHO  SAVED  ENGLAND  305 

Mr.  Sabin  drew  a  quiet,  little  breath.  For  a  moment  his 
haggard  face  seemed  almost  ghastly.  He  recovered  himself, 
however,  with  an  effort. 

"  We  are  not  in  China,  Foo  Cha,"  he  said.  "I  have  done 
nothing  against  the  law  of  this  country ;  no  man  can  enter 
here  if  we  resist.  If  we  are  really  being  watched,  it  must 
be  by  persons  in  the  pay  of  the  Russian.  But  they  can  do 
nothing ;  it  is  too  late ;  Knigenstein  will  be  here  in  half 
an  hour.  The  thing  will  be  settled  then,  once  and  for 
ever." 

Foo  Cha  was  troubled  still. 

"  Me  afraid,"  he  admitted  frankly.  "  Strange  men  this 
end  and  tnat  end  of  street.  Me  no  like  it.  Ah  !  " 

The  front  door  bell  rang  softly ;  it  was  a  timid,  hesitating 
ring,  as  though  some  one  had  but  feebly  touched  the  knob. 
Foo  Cha  and  his  master  looked  at  one  another  in  silence. 
There  was  something  almost  ominous  in  that  gentle  peal. 

"  You  must  see  who  it  is,  Foo  Cha,"  Mr.  Sabin  said. 
"  It  may  be  Knigenstein  come  early ;  if  so,  show  him  in  at 
once.  To  everybody  else  the  house  is  empty." 

Foo  Cha  bowed  silently  and  withdrew.  He  struck  a 
match  in  the  dark  passage,  and  lit  the  hanging  gas-lamp. 
Then  he  opened  the  door  cautiously. 

One  man  alone  was  standing  there.  Foo  Cha  looked  at 
him  in  despair ;  it  was  certainly  not  Knigenstein,  nor  was 
there  any  sign  of  his  carriage  in  the  street.  The  stranger 
was  a  man  of  middle  height,  squarely  built  and  stout.  He 
wore  a  long  black  overcoat,  and  he  stood  with  his  hands  in 
his  pockets. 

"  What  you  want  ?  "  Foo  Cha  asked.  "  What  you  want 
with  me  ?  " 

The  man  did  not  answer  at  once,  but  he  stepped  inside 
into  the  passage.  Foo  Cha  tried  to  shut  the  door  in  his 
face,  but  it  was  like  pushing  against  a  mountain. 

"Where  is  your  master?"  he  asked. 
20 


306  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"  Master  ?  He  not  here,"  Foo  Cha  answered,  with  glib 
and  untruthful  earnestness.  "  Indeed  he  is  not  here — quite 
true.  He  come  to-morrow;  I  preparing  house  for  him. 
What  do  you  want?  Go  away,  or  me  call  policeman." 

The  intruder  smiled  indulgently  into  the  Chinaman's 
earnest,  upturned  face. 

"  Foo  Cha,"  he  said,  "  that  is  enough.  Take  this  card  to 
your  master,  Mr.  Sabin." 

Foo  Cha  was  ready  to  begin  another  torrent  of  expostu- 
lations, but  in  the  gaslight  he  met  the  new-comer's  steadfast 
gaze,  and  he  was  silent.  The  stranger  was  dressed  in  the 
garb  of  a  superior  working  man,  but  his  speech  and  manner 
indicated  a  very  different  station.  Foo  Cha  took  the  card 
and  left  him  in  the  passage.  He  made  his  way  softly  into 
the  sitting-room,  and  as  he  entered  he  turned  the  key  in  the 
lock  behind  him;  there,  at  any  rate,  was  a  moment  or  two  of 
respite. 

"Master,"  he  said,  "there  is  a  man  there  whom  we  cannot 
stop.  When  me  tell  him  you  no  here,  he  laugh  at  me.  He 
will  see  you ;  he  no  go  way.  He  laugh  again  when  I  try 
shut  the  door.  He  give  me  card ;  I  no  understand  what 
on  it." 

Mr.  Sabin  stretched  out  his  hand  and  took  the  card  from 
the  Chinaman's  fingers.  There  seemed  to  be  one  or  two 
words  upon  it,  traced  in  a  delicate,  sloping  handwriting. 
Mr.  Sabin  had  snatched  at  the  little  piece  of  pasteboard 
with  some  impatience,  but  the  moment  he  had  read  those 
few  words  a  remarkable  change  came  over  him.  He  started 
as  though  he  had  received  an  electric  shock  ;  the  pupils  of 
his  eyes  seemed  hideously  dilated ;  the  usual  pallor  of  his 
face  was  merged  in  a  ghastly  whiteness.  And  then,  after 
the  first  shock,  came  a  look  of  deep  and  utter  despair ;  his 
hand  fell  to  his  side,  a  half-muttered  imprecation  escaped 
from  his  trembling  lips,  yet  he  laid  the  card  gently,  even 
with  reverence,  upon  the  desk  before  him. 


THE  MEN  WHO  SAVED  ENGLAND  307 

"  You  can  show  him  in,  Foo  Cha,"  he  directed,  in  a  low 
tone ;  "  show  him  in  at  once." 

Foo  Cha  glided  out  disappointed.  Something  had  gone 
terribly  wrong,  he  was  sure  of  that.  He  went  slowly  down- 
stairs, his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  dark  figure  standing  motion- 
less in  the  dimly-lit  hall.  He  drew  a  sharp  breath,  which 
sounded  through  his  yellow,  protuberant  teeth  like  a  hiss. 
A  single  stroke  of  that  long  knife — it  would  be  so  easy. 
Then  he  remembered  the  respect  with  which  Mr.  Sabin 
had  treated  that  card,  and  he  sighed.  Perhaps  it  would  be 
a  mistake ;  it  might  make  evil  worse.  He  beckoned  to  the 
stranger,  and  conducted  him  upstairs. 

Mr.  Sabin  received  his  visitor  standing.  He  was  still 
very  pale,  but  his  face  had  resumed  its  wonted  impassive- 
ness.  In  the  dim  lamp-lit  room  he  could  see  very  little  of 
his  visitor,  only  a  thick-set  man  with  dark  eyes  and  a  closely- 
cropped  black  beard.  He  was  roughly  dressed,  yet  held 
himself  well.  The  two  men  eyed  one  another  steadily  for 
several  moments,  before  any  speech  passed  between  them. 

"You  are  surprised,"  the  stranger  said;  "I do  not  wonder 
at  it.  Perhaps — you  have  been  much  engrossed,  it  is  said — 
you  had  even  forgotten." 

Mr.  Sabin's  lips  curled  in  a  bitter  smile. 

"  One  does  not  forget  those  things,"  he  said.  "  To 
business.  Let  me  know  what  is  required  of  me." 

"  It  has  been  reported,"  the  stranger  said,  "  that  you  have 
conceived  and  brought  to  great  perfection  a  comprehensive 
and  infallible  scheme  for  the  conquest  of  this  country. 
Further,  that  you  are  on  the  point  of  handing  it  over  to  the 
Emperor  of  Germany,  for  the  use  of  that  country.  I  think 
I  may  conclude  that  the  report  is  correct  ?  "  he  added,  with 
a  glance  at  the  table.  "  We  are  not  often  misinformed." 

"  The  report,"  Mr.  Sabin  assented,  "  is  perfectly  correct.' 

"  We  have  taken  counsel  upon  the  matter,"  the  stranger 
continued,  "and  I  am  here  to  acquaint  you  with  our  decision. 


308  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

The  papers  are  to  be  burnt,  and  the  appliances  to  be  de- 
stroyed forthwith.  No  portion  of  them  is  to  be  shown 
to  the  German  Government  or  any  person  representing  that 
country,  nor  to  any  other  Power.  Further,  you  are  to 
leave  England  within  two  months." 

Mr.  Sabin  stood  quite  still,  his  hands  resting  lightly  upon 
the  desk  in  front  of  him.  His  eyes,  fixed  on  vacancy,  were 
looking  far  out  of  that  shabby  little  room,  back  along  the 
avenues  of  time,  thronged  with  the  fragments  of  his  broken 
dreams.  He  realised  once  more  the  full  glory  of  his  daring 
and  ambitious  scheme.  He  saw  his  country  revelling  again 
in  her  old  splendour,  stretching  out  her  limbs  and  taking 
once  more  the  foremost  place  among  her  sister  nations. 
He  saw  the  pageantry  and  rich  colouring  of  Imperialism, 
firing  the  imagination  of  her  children,  drawing  all  hearts 
back  to  their  allegiance,  breaking  through  the  hard  crust  of 
materialism  which  had  spread  like  an  evil  dream  through 
the  land.  He  saw  himself  great  and  revered,  the  patriot, 
the  Richelieu  of  his  days,  the  adored  of  the  people,  the 
friend  and  restorer  of  his  king.  Once  more  he  was  a  figure 
in  European  history,  the  consort  of  Emperors,  the  man 
whose  slightest  word  could  shake  the  money  markets  of  the 
world.  He  saw  all  these  things,  as  though  for  the  last  time, 
with  strange,  unreal  vividness ;  once  more  their  full  glory 
warmed  his  blood  and  dazzled  his  eyes.  Then  a  flash  of 
memory,  an  effort  of  realisation  chilled  him ;  his  feet  were 
upon  the  earth  again,  his  head  was  heavy.  That  thick-set, 
motionless  figure  before  him  seemed  like  the  incarnation  of 
his  despair. 

"I  shall  appeal,"  he  said  hoarsely ;  "  England  is  no  friend 
of  ours." 

The  man  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"England  is  tolerant  at  least,"  he  said;  "and  she  has 
sheltered  us." 

"  I  shall  appeal,"  Mr.  Sabin  repeated. 


THE  MEN  WHO  SAVED  ENGLAND  309 

The  man  shook  his  head. 

"  It  is  the  order  of  the  High  Council,"  he  said ;  "  there  is 
no  appeal." 

"  It  is  my  life's  work,"  Mr.  Sabin  faltered. 

"  Your  life's  work,"  the  man  said  slowly,  "  should  be  with 
us." 

"  God  knows  why  I  ever " 

The  man  stretched  out  a  white  hand,  which  gleamed 
through  the  semi-darkness.  Mr.  Sabin  stopped  short. 

"You  very  nearly,"  he  said  solemnly,  "  pronounced  your 
own  death-sentence.  If  you  had  finished  what  you  were 
about  to  say,  I  could  never  have  saved  you.  Be  wise, 
friend.  This  is  a  disappointment  to  you ;  well,  is  not  our 
life  one  long  torturing  disappointment  ?  What  of  us, 
indeed?  We  are  like  the  waves  which  beat  ceaselessly 
against  the  sea-shore,  what  we  gain  one  day  we  lose  the 
next.  It  is  fate,  it  is  life  !  Once  more,  friend,  remember  ! 
Farewell ! " 


Mr.  Sabin  was  left  alone,  a  martyr  to  his  thoughts. 
Already  it  was  past  the  hour  for  Knigenstein's  visit.  Should 
he  remain  and  brave  the  storm,  or  should  he  catch  the  boat- 
train  from  Charing  Cross  and  hasten  to  hide  himself  in 
one  of  the  most  remote  quarters  of  the  civilised  world  ? 
In  any  case  it  was  a  dreary  outlook  for  him.  Not  only  had 
this  dearly  cherished  scheme  of  his  come  crashing  about 
his  head,  but  he  had  very  seriously  compromised  himself 
with  a  great  country.  The  Emperor's  gracious  letter  was  in 
his  pocket — he  smiled  grimly  to  himself  as  he  thought  for 
a  moment  of  the  consternation  of  Berlin,  and  of  Knigen- 
stein's disgrace.  And  then  the  luxury  of  choice  was 
suddenly  denied  him ;  he  was  brought  back  to  the  present, 
and  a  sense  of  its  paramount  embarrassments  by  a  pealing 
ring  at  the  bell,  and  the  trampling  of  horse's  feet  in  the 


310  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

street.  He  had  no  time  to  rescind  his  previous  instructions 
to  Foo  Cha  before  Knigenstein  himself,  wrapped  in  a  great 
sealskin  coat,  and  muffled  up  to  the  chin  with  a  silk  hand- 
kerchief, was  shown  into  the  room. 

The  Ambassador's  usually  phlegmatic  face  bore  traces  of 
some  anxiety.  Behind  his  spectacles  his  eyes  glittered 
nervously;  he  grasped  Mr.  Sabin's  hand  with  unwonted 
cordiality,  and  was  evidently  much  relieved  to  have  found 
him. 

"  My  dear  Souspennier,"  he  said,  "  this  is  a  great  occa- 
sion. I  am  a  little  late,  but,  as  you  can  imagine,  I  am 
overwhelmed  with  work  of  the  utmost  importance.  You 
have  finished  now,  I  hope.  You  are  ready  for  me  ?  " 

"  I  am  as  ready  for  you,"  Mr.  Sabin  said  grimly,  "  as  I 
ever  shall  be  ! " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? "  Knigenstein  asked  sharply. 
"  Don't  tell  me  that  anything  has  gone  amiss !  I  am  a 
ruined  man,  unless  you  carry  out  your  covenant  to  the 
letter.  I  have  pledged  my  word  upon  your  honour." 

"  Then  I  am  afraid,"  Mr.  Sabin  said,  "  that  we  are  both 
of  us  in  a  very  tight  place !  I  am  bound  hand  and  foot. 
There,"  he  cried,  pointing  to  the  grate,  half  choked  with  a 
pile  of  quivering  grey  ashes,  "  lies  the  work  of  seven  years 
of  my  life — seven  years  of  intrigue,  of  calculation,  of  un- 
ceasing toil.  By  this  time  all  my  American  inventions, 
which  would  have  paralysed  Europe,  are  blown  sky  high  ! 
That  is  the  position,  Knigenstein ;  we  are  undone  !  " 

Knigenstein  was  shaking  like  a  child ;  he  laid  his  hand 
upon  Mr.  Sabin's  arm,  and  gripped  it  fiercely. 

"  Souspennier,"  he  said,  "  if  you  are  speaking  the  truth 
I  am  ruined,  and  disgraced  for  ever.  The  Emperor  will 
never  forgive  me  !  I  shall  be  dismissed  and  banished.  I 
have  pledged  my  word  for  yours;  you  cannot  mean  to  play 
me  false  like  this.  If  there  is  any  personal  favour  or 
reward,  which  the  Emperor  can  grant,  it  is  yours — I  will 


THE  MEN  WHO  SAVED  ENGLAND  311 

answer  for  it.  I  will  answer  for  it,  too,  that  war  shall  be 
declared  against  France  within  six  months  of  the  conclu- 
sion of  peace  with  England.  Come,  say  that  you  have 
been  jesting.  Good  God  !  man,  you  are  torturing  me. 
Why,  have  you  seen  the  papers  to-night  ?  The  Emperor 
has  been  hasty,  I  own,  but  he  has  already  struck  the  first 
blow.  War  is  as  good  as  declared.  I  am  waiting  for  my 
papers  every  hour  ! " 

"I cannot  help  it,"  Mr.  Sabin  said  doggedly.  "The 
thing  is  at  an  end.  To  give  up  all  the  fruits  of  my  work — 
the  labour  of  the  best  years  of  my  life — is  as  bitter  to  me 
as  your  dilemma  is  to  you !  But  it  is  inevitable  !  Be  a 
man,  Knigenstein,  put  the  best  face  on  it  you  can." 

The  utter  impotence  of  all  that  he  could  say  was  sud- 
denly revealed  to  Knigenstein  in  Mr.  Sabin's  set  face  and 
hopeless  words.  His  tone  of  entreaty  changed  to  one  of 
anger;  the  veins  on  his  forehead  stood  out  like  knotted 
string,  his  mouth  twitched  as  he  spoke,  he  could  not  con- 
trol himself. 

"  You  have  made  up  your  mind,"  he  cried.  "  Very  well ! 
Russia  has  bought  you,  very  well !  If  Lobenski  has  bribed 
you  with  all  the  gold  in  Christendom  you  shall  never  enjoy 
it !  You  shall  not  live  a  year !  I  swear  it !  You  have 
insulted  and  wronged  our  country,  our  fatherland  !  Listen ! 
A  word  shall  be  breathed  in  the  ears  of  a  handful  of  our 
officers.  Where  you  go,  they  shall  go ;  if  you  leave 
England  you  will  be  struck  on  the  cheek  in  the  first  public 
place  at  which  you  show  yourself.  If  one  falls,  there  are 
others — hundreds,  thousands,  an  army !  Oh  !  you  shall 
not  escape,  my  friend.  But  if  ever  you  dared  to  set  foot 
in  Germany " 

"  I  can  assure  you,"  Mr.  Sabin  interrupted,  '*  that  I  shall 
take  particular  care  never  to  visit  your  delightful  country. 
Elsewhere,  I  think  I  can  take  care  of  myself.  But  listen, 
Knigenstein,  all  your  talk  about  Russia  and  playing  you 


312  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

false  is  absurd.  If  I  had  wished  to  deal  with  Lobenski,  I 
could  have  done  so,  instead  of  with  you.  I  have  not  even 
seen  him.  A  greater  hand  than  his  has  stopped  me,  a 
greater  even  than  the  hand  of  your  Emperor ! " 

Knigenstein  looked  at  him  as  one  looks  at  a  madman. 

"  There  is  no  greater  hand  on  earth,"  he  said,  "  than 
the  hand  of  his  Imperial  Majesty,  the  Emperor  of  Ger- 
many." 

Mr.  Sabin  smiled. 

"  You  are  a  German,"  he  said,  "  and  you  know  little  ot 
these  things,  yet  you  call  yourself  a  diplomatist,  and  I  sup- 
pose you  have  some  knowledge  of  what  this  means." 

He  lifted  the  lamp  from  the  table  and  walked  to  the  wall 
opposite  to  the  door.  Knigenstein  followed  him  closely. 
Before  them,  high  up  as  the  fingers  of  a  man  could  reach, 
was  a  small,  irregular  red  patch — something  between  a 
cross  and  a  star.  Mr.  Sabin  held  the  lamp  high  over  his 
head  and  pointed  to  the  mark. 

"  Do  you  know  what  that  means  ?  "  he  asked. 

The  man  by  his  side  groaned. 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  with  a  gesture  of  abject  despair, 
11 1  know  ! " 

Mr.  Sabin  walked  back  to  the  table  and  set  down  the 
lamp. 

"  You  know  now,"  he  said  coolly,  "  who  has  intervened." 

"  If  I  had  had  any  idea,"  Knigenstein  said,  "  that  you 
were  one  of  them  I  should  not  have  treated  with  you." 

"It  was  many  years  ago,"  Mr.  Sabin  said  with  a  sigh. 
u  My  father  was  half  a  Russian,  you  know.  It  served  my 
purpose  whilst  I  was  envoy  at  Teheran ;  since  then  I  had 
lost  sight  of  them ;  I  thought  that  they  too  had  lost  sight 
of  me.  I  was  mistaken — only  an  hour  ago  I  was  visited 
by  a  chief  official.  They  knew  everything,  they  forbade 
everything.  As  a  matter  of  fact  they  have  saved  Eng- 
land 1" 


THE  MEN  WHO  SAVED  ENGLAND  313 

"And  ruined  us,"  Knigenstein  groaned.  "I  must  go 
and  telegraph.  But  Souspennier,  one  word." 

Mr.  Sabin  looked  up. 

"  You  are  a  brave  man  and  a  patriot ;  you  want  to  see 
your  country  free.  Well,  why  not  free  it  still  ?  You  and  I 
are  philosophers,  we  know  that  life  after  all  is  an  uncertain 
thing.  Hold  to  your  bargain  with  us.  It  will  be  to  your 
death,  I  do  not  deny  that.  But  I  will  pledge  the  honour 
of  my  country,  I  will  give  you  the  holy  word  of  the 
Emperor,  that  we  will  faithfully  carry  out  our  part  of  the 
contract,  and  the  whole  glory  shall  be  yours.  You  will  be 
immortalised;  you  will  win  fame  that  shall  be  deathless. 
Your  name  will  be  enshrined  in  the  heart  of  your  country's 
history." 

Mr.  Sabin  shook  his  head  slowly. 

"  My  dear  Knigenstein,"  he  said  "  pray  don't  misunder- 
stand me.  I  do  not  cast  the  slightest  reflection  upon  your 
Emperor  or  your  honour.  But  if  ever  there  was  a  country 
which  required  watching,  it  is  yours.  I  could  not  carry 
your  pledges  with  me  into  oblivion,  and  there  is  no  one  to 
whom  I  could  leave  the  legacy.  That  being  the  case,  I 
think  that  I  prefer  to  live." 

Knigenstein  buttoned  up  his  coat  and  sighed. 

"  I  am  a  ruined  man,  Souspennier,"  he  said,  "  but  I  bear 
you  no  malice.  Let  me  leave  you  a  little  word  of  warning, 
though.  The  Nihilists  are  not  the  only  people  in  the 
world  who  have  the  courage  and  the  wit  to  avenge  them- 
selves. Farewell ! " 

Mr.  Sabin  broke  into  a  queer  little  laugh  as  he  listened 
to  his  guest's  departing  footsteps.  Then  he  lit  a  cigarette, 
and  called  to  Foo  Cha  for  some  coffee. 


CHAPTER   XXXIX 

THE  HEART  OF    THE   PRINCESS 

WHEN  Wolfenden  opened  his  paper  on  Saturday  morning, 
London  had  already  drawn  a  great  breath,  partly  of  relief 
partly  of  surprise,  for  the  black  head-lines  which  topped 
the  columns  of  the  papers,  the  placards  in  the  streets,  and 
the  cry  of  the  newsboys,  all  declared  a  most  remarkable 
change  in  the  political  situation. 

"THE   GERMAN   EMPEROR   EXPLAINS! 

THERE  WILL    BE    NO   WAR! 

GERMAN  CONSUL  ORDERED  HOME  ! 

No  RUPTURE  ! " 

Wolfenden,  in  common  with  most  of  his  fellow-countrymen, 
could  scarcely  believe  his  eyes ;  yet  there  it  was  in  plain 
black  and  white.  The  dogs  of  war  had  been  called  back. 
Germany  was  climbing  down — not  with  dignity ;  she  had 
gone  too  far  for  that — but  with  a  scuffle.  Wolfenden  read 
the  paper  through  before  he  even  thought  of  his  letters 
Then  he  began  to  open  them  slowly.  The  first  was  from 
his  mother.  The  Admiral  was  distinctly  better;  the 
doctors  were  more  hopeful.  He  turned  to  the  next  one; 
it  was  in  a  delicate,  foreign  handwriting,  and  exhaled  a 

314 


THE  HEART  OF  THE  PRINCESS  315 

faint  perfume  which  seemed  vaguely  familiar  to  him,     He 
opened  it  and  his  heart  stood  still. 

"  14,  GROSVENOR  SQUARE, 

"  LONDON,  W 

"  Will  you  come  and  see  me  to-day  about  four  o'clock  ? 
— HELENE." 

He  looked  at  his  watch — four  o'clock  seemed  a  very  long 
way  off.  He  decided  that  he  would  go  out  and  find  Felix ; 
but  almost  immediately  the  door  was  opened  and  that  very 
person  was  shown  in. 

Felix  was  radiant;  he  appeared  to  have  grown  years 
younger.  He  was  immaculately  dressed,  and  he  wore  an 
exquisite  orchid  in  his  button-hole. 

Wolfenden  greeted  him  warmly. 

"  Have  you  seen  the  paper  ? "  he  asked.  "  Do  you 
know  the  news  ?  " 

Felix  laughed. 

"  Of  course  !  You  may  not  believe  it,  but  it  is  true  that 
I  am  the  person  who  has  saved  your  country  !  And  I  am 
quits  at  last  with  Herbert  de  la  Meux,  Due  de  Souspen- 
nier ! " 

"  Meaning,  I  suppose,  the  person  whom  we  have  been 
accustomed  to  call — Mr.  Sabin?"  Wolfenden  remarked. 

"  Exactly ! " 

Wolfenden  pushed  an  easy  chair  towards  his  visitor  and 
produced  some  cigarettes. 

"  I  must  say,"  he  continued,  "  that  I  should  exceedingly 
like  to  know  how  the  thing  was  done." 

Felix  smiled. 

"  That,  my  dear  friend,"  he  said,  "  you  will  never  know. 
No  one  will  ever  know  the  cause  of  Germany's  suddenly 
belligerent  attitude,  and  her  equally  speedy  climb-down ! 
There  are  many  pages  of  diplomatic  history  which  the 


316  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

world  will  never  read,  and  this  is  one  of  them.  Come  and 
lunch  with  me,  Lord  Wolfenden.  My  vow  is  paid  and 
without  bloodshed.  I  am  a  free  man,  and  my  promotion 
is  assured.  To-day  is  the  happiest  of  my  life ! " 

Wolfenden  smiled  and  looked  at  the  letter  on  the  table 
before  him ;  might  it  not  also  be  the  happiest  day  of  his 
own  life  ! 

***** 

And  it  was !  Punctually  at  four  o'clock  he  presented  him- 
self at  Grosvenor  Square  and  was  ushered  into  one  of  the 
smaller  reception  rooms.  Helene  came  to  him  at  once,  a 
smile  half-shy,  half-apologetic  upon  her  lips.  He  was  con- 
scious from  the  moment  of  her  entrance  of  a  change  in  her 
deportment  towards  him.  She  held  in  her  hand  a  small 
locket. 

"  I  wanted  to  ask  you,  Lord  Wolfenden,"  she  said,  draw- 
ing her  fingers  slowly  away  from  his  lingering  clasp,  "  does 
this  locket  belong  to  you  ?  " 

He  glanced  at  it  and  shook  his  head  at  once. 

"  I  never  saw  it  before  in  my  life,"  he  declared.  "  I  do 
not  wear  a  watch  chain,  and  I  don't  possess  anything  of 
that  sort." 

She  threw  it  contemptuously  away  from  her  into  the  grate. 

"  A  woman  lied  to  me  about  it,"  she  said  slowly.  "  I  am 
ashamed  of  myself  that  I  should  have  listened  to  her,  even 
for  a  second.  I  chanced  to  look  at  it  last  night,  and  it 
suddenly  occurred  to  me  where  I  had  seen  it.  It  was  on  a 
man's  watch-chain,  but  not  on  yours." 

"  Surely,"  he  said,  "  it  belongs  to  Mr.  Sabin  ?  " 

She  nodded  and  held  out  both  her  hands. 

"  Will  you  forgive  me  ?  "  she  begged  softly,  "  and — and 
— I  think — I  promised  to  send  for  you  ! " 

***** 

They  had  been  together  for  nearly  an  hour  when  the 
door  opened  abruptly,  and  the  young  man  whom  Wolfenden 


THE  HEART  OF  THE  PRINCESS  317 

had  seen  with  Helene  in  the  barouche  entered  the  room. 
He  stared  in  amazement  at  her,  and  rudely  at  Wolfenden. 
Helene  rose  and  turned  to  him  with  a  smile. 

"  Henri,"  she  said,  "  let  me  present  to  you  the  English 
gentleman  whom  I  am  going  to  marry.  Prince  Henri  of 
Ortrens — Lord  Wolfenden." 

The  young  man  barely  returned  Wolfenden's  salute. 
He  turned  with  flashing  eyes  to  Helene  and  muttered  a 
few  hasty  words  in  French — 

"  A  kingdom  and  my  betrothed  in  one  day  !  It  is  too 
much !  We  will  see  ! " 

He  left  the  room  hurriedly.     Helene  laughed. 

"He  has  gone  to  find  the  Duchess,"  she  said,  "and 
there  will  be  a  scene !  Let  us  go  out  in  the  Park." 

They  walked  about  under  the  trees  ;  suddenly  they  came 
face  to  face  with  Mr.  Sabin.  He  was  looking  a  little  worn, 
but  he  was  as  carefully  dressed  as  usual,  and  he  welcomed 
them  with  a  smile  and  an  utter  absence  of  any  embarrass- 
ment. 

"  So  soon ! "  he  remarked  pleasantly.  "  You  Englishmen 
are  as  prompt  in  love  as  you  are  in  war,  Lord  Wolfenden  ! 
It  is  an  admirable  trait." 

Helene  laid  her  hand  upon  his  arm.  Yes,  it  was  no 
fancy;  his  hair  was  greyer,  and  heavy  lines  furrowed  his 
brow. 

"  Uncle,"  she  said,  "  believe  me  that  I  am  sorry  for  you, 
though  for  myself — I  am  glad  ! " 

He  looked  at  her  kindly,  yet  with  a  faint  contempt. 

"The  Bourbon  blood  runs  very  slowly  in  your  veins, 
child,"  he  said.  "  After  all  I  begin  to  doubt  whether  you 
would  have  made  a  queen !  As  for  myself — well,  I  am 
resigned.  I  am  going  to  Pau,  to  play  golf!" 

"  For  how  long,  I  wonder,"  she  said  smiling,  "  will  you 
be  able  to  content  yourself  there?" 

"  For  a  month  or  two,"  he  answered ;  "  until  I  have  lost 


3i8  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

the  taste  of  defeat.  Then  I  have  plans — but  never  mind ; 
I  will  tell  you  later  on.  You  will  all  hear  of  me  again ! 
So  far  as  you  two  are  concerned  at  any  rate,"  he  added,  "  I 
have  no  need  to  reproach  myself.  My  failure  seems  to 
have  brought  you  happiness." 

He  passed  on,  and  they  both  watched  his  slim  figure  lost 
in  the  throng  of  passers-by. 

"  He  is  a  great  man,"  she  murmured.  "  He  knows  how 
to  bear  defeat." 

"  He  is  a  great  man,"  Wolfenden  answered ;  "  but  none 
the  less  I  am  not  sorry  to  see  the  last  of  Mr.  Sabin ! " 


CHAPTER    XL 

THE   WAY   TO    PAU 

THE  way  to  Pau  which  Mr.  Sabin  chose  may  possibly  have 
been  the  most  circuitous,  but  it  was  certainly  the  safest. 
Although  not  a  muscle  of  his  face  had  moved,  although  he 
had  not  by  any  physical  movement  or  speech  betrayed  his 
knowledge  of  the  fact,  he  was  perfectly  well  aware  that  his 
little  statement  as  to  his  future  movements  was  overheard 
and  carefully  noted  by  the  tall,  immaculately  dressed  young 
man  who  by  some  strange  chance  seemed  to  have  been  at 
his  elbow  since  he  had  left  his  rooms  an  hour  ago.  "  Into 
the  lion's  mouth,  indeed,"  he  muttered  to  himself  grimly  as 
he  hailed  a  hansom  at  the  corner  and  was  driven  home- 
wards. The  limes  of  Berlin  were  very  beautiful,  but  it  was 
not  with  any  immediate  idea  of  sauntering  beneath  them 
that  a  few  hours  later  he  was  driven  to  Euston  and  stepped 
into  an  engaged  carriage  on  the  Liverpool  express.  There, 
with  a  travelling  cap  drawn  down  to  his  eyes  and  a  rug 
pulled  up  to  his  throat,  he  sat  in  the  far  corner  of  his  com- 
partment apparently  enjoying  an  evening  paper — as  a  matter 
of  fact  anxiously  watching  the  platform.  He  had  taken  care 
to  allow  himself  only  a  slender  margin  of  time.  In  two 
minutes  the  train  glided  out  of  the  station. 

He  drew  a  little  sigh  of  relief — he,  who  very  seldom  per- 
mitted himself  the  luxury  of  even  the  slightest  revelation  of 

319 


320  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

his  feelings.  At  least  he  had  a  start.  Then  he  unlocked  a 
travelling  case,  and,  drawing  out  an  atlas,  sat  with  it  upon 
his  knee  for  some  time.  When  he  closed  it  there  was  a 
frown  upon  his  face. 

"America,"  he  exclaimed  softly  to  himself.  "What  a 
lack  of  imagination  even  the  sound  of  the  place  seems  to 
denote  1  It  is  the  most  ignominious  retreat  I  have  ever 
made." 

"  You  made  the  common  mistake,"  a  quiet  voice  at  his 
elbow  remarked,  "of  many  of  the  world's  greatest  diplo- 
matists. You  underrated  your  adversaries." 

Mr.  Sabin  distinctly  started,  and  clutching  at  his  rug, 
leaned  back  in  his  corner.  A  young  man  in  a  tweed 
travelling  suit  was  standing  by  the  opposite  window.  Be- 
hind him  Mr.  Sabin  noticed  for  the  first  time  a  narrow 
mahogany  door.  Mr.  Sabin  drew  a  short  breath,  and  was 
himself  again.  Underneath  the  rug  his  fingers  stole  into 
his  overcoat  pocket  and  clasped  something  cold  and  firm. 

"  One  at  least,"  he  said  grimly,  "  I  perceive  that  I  have 
held  too  lightly.  Will  you  pardon  a  novice  at  necro- 
mancy if  he  asks  you  how  you  found  your  way  here  ?  " 

Felix  smiled. 

"  A  little  forethought,"  he  remarked,  "  a  little  luck  and  a 
sovereign  tip  to  an  accommodating  inspector.  The  carriage 
in  which  you  are  travelling  is,  as  you  will  doubtless  perceive 
before  you  reach  your  journey's  end,  a  species  of  saloon. 
This  little  door  " — touching  the  one  through  which  he  had 
issued — "  leads  on  to  a  lavatory,  and  on  the  other  side  is  a 
non-smoking  carriage.  I  found  that  you  had  engaged  a 
carriage  on  this  train,  by  posing  as  your  servant.  I  selected 
this  one  as  being  particularly  suited  to  an  old  gentleman 
of  nervous  disposition,  and  arranged  also  that  the  non- 
smoking portion  should  be  reserved  for  me." 

Mr.  Sabin  nodded.  "  And  how,"  he  asked,  "  did  you 
know  that  I  meant  to  go  to  America?" 


THE  WAY  TO  PAU  321 

Felix  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  took  a  seat. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  I  concluded  that  you  would  be  looking 
for  a  change  of  air  somewhere,  and  I  really  could  not  see 
what  part  of  the  world  you  had  left  open  to  yourself. 
America  is  the  only  country  strong  enough  to  keep  you ! 
Besides,  I  reckoned  a  little  upon  that  curiosity  with  regard 
to  undeveloped  countries  which  I  have  observed  to  be  one 
of  your  traits.  So  far  as  I  am  aware,  you  have  never 
resided  long  in  America." 

"  Neither  have  I  even  visited  Kamtchatka  or  Greenland," 
Mr.  Sabin  remarked. 

"  I  understand  you,"  Felix  remarked,  nodding  his 
head.  "  America  is  certainly  one  of  the  last  places  one 
would  have  dreamed  of  looking  for  you.  You  will  find  it, 
I  am  afraid,  politically  unborn ;  your  own  little  methods, 
at  any  rate,  would  scarcely  achieve  popularity  there. 
Further,  its  sympathies,  of  course,  are  with  democratic 
France.  I  can  imagine  that  you  and  the  President  of  the 
United  States  would  represent  opposite  poles  of  thought. 
Yet  there  were  two  considerations  which  weighed  with 
me." 

"  This  is  very  interesting,"  Mr.  Sabin  remarked.  "  May 
I  know  what  they  were  ?  To  be  permitted  a  glimpse  into 
the  inward  workings  of  a  brain  like  yours  is  indeed  a 
privilege ! " 

Felix  bowed  with  a  gratified  smile  upon  his  lips.  The 
satire  of  Mr.  Sabin's  dry  tone  was  apparently  lost  upon  him. 

"You  are  most  perfectly  welcome,"  he  declared.  "In 
the  first  place  I  said  to  myself  that  Kamtchatka  and 
Greenland,  although  equally  interesting  to  you,  would  be 
quite  unable  to  afford  themselves  the  luxury  of  offering 
you  an  asylum.  You  must  seek  the  shelter  of  a  great  and 
powerful  country,  and  one  which  you  had  never  offended, 
and  save  America,  there  is  none  such  in  the  world. 
Secondly,  you  are  a  Sybarite,  and  you  do  not  without 

21 


322  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIM 

very  serious  reasons  place  yourself  outside  the  pale  of 
civilisation.  Thirdly,  America  is  the  only  country  save 
those  which  are  barred  to  you  where  you  could  play 
golf!" 

"You  are  really  a  remarkable  young  man,"  Sabin  de- 
clared, softly  stroking  his  little  grey  imperial.  "You  have 
read  me  like  a  book  !  I  am  humiliated  that  the  course  of 
my  reasoning  should  have  been  so  transparent.  To  prove 
the  correctness  of  your  conclusions,  see  the  little  volume 
which  I  had  brought  to  read  on  my  way  to  Liverpool." 

He  handed  it  out  to  Felix.  It  was  entitled,  "  The  Golf 
Courses  of  the  World,"  and  a  leaf  was  turned  down  at  the 
chapter  headed,  "  United  States." 

"  I  wish,"  he  remarked,  "  that  you  were  a  golfer !  I 
should  like  to  have  asked  your  opinion  about  that  plan  of 
the  Myopia  golf  links.  To  me  it  seems  cramped,  and  the 
bunkers  are  artificial." 

Felix  looked  at  him  admiringly. 

"  You  are  a  wonderful  man,"  he  said.  "  You  do  not  bear 
me  any  ill-will  then  ?  " 

"  None  in  the  least,"  Mr.  Sabin  said  quietly.  "  I  never 
bear  personal  grudges.  So  far  as  I  am  concerned,  I  never 
have  a  personal  enemy.  It  is  fate  itself  which  vanquished 
me.  You  were  simply  an  instrument.  You  do  not  figure 
in  my  thoughts  as  a  person  against  whom  I  bear  any  ill- 
will.  I  am  glad,  though,  that  you  did  not  cash  my  cheque 
for  ;£  2  0,000  ! " 

Felix  smiled.     "  You  went  to  see,  then  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  took  the  liberty,"  Mr.  Sabin  answered,  "  of  stopping 
payment  of  it." 

"  It  will  never  be  presented,"  Felix  said.  "  I  tore  it  into 
pieces  directly  I  left  you." 

Mr.  Sabin  nodded. 

"  Quixotic,"  he  murmured. 

The  express  was   rushing  on   through  the  night.     Mr. 


THE  WAY  TO  PAU  323 

Sabin  thrust  his  hand  into  his  bag  and  took  out  a  handful 
of  cigars.  He  offered  one  to  Felix,  who  accepted,  and  lit  it 
with  the  air  of  a  man  enjoying  the  reasonable  civility  of  a 
chance  fellow  passenger. 

"You  had,  I  presume,"  Mr.  Sabin  remarked,  "some 
object  in  coming  to  see  the  last  of  me?  I  do  not  wish 
to  seem  unduly  inquisitive,  but  I  feel  a  little  natural 
interest,  or  shall  we  say  curiosity  as  to  the  reason  for 
this  courtesy  on  your  part  ?  " 

"  You  are  quite  correct,"  Felix  answered.  "  I  am  here 
with  a  purpose.  I  am  the  bearer  of  a  message  to  you." 

"  May  I  ask,  a  friendly  message,  or  otherwise  ?  " 

His  fingers  were  tightening  upon  the  little  hard  substance 
in  his  pocket,  but  he  was  already  beginning  to  doubt 
whether  after  all  Felix  had  come  as  an  enemy. 

"  Friendly,"  was  the  prompt  answer.  "  I  bring  you  an 
offer." 

"  From  Lobenski  ?  " 

"  From  his  august  master  1  The  Czar  himself  has  plans 
for  you  !  " 

"  His  serene  Majesty,"  Mr.  Sabin  murmured,  "  has  always 
been  most  kind." 

"  Since  you  left  the  country  of  the  Shah,"  Felix  continued, 
"  Russian  influence  in  Central  Asia  has  been  gradually  upon 
the  wane.  All  manner  of  means  have  been  employed  to 
conceal  this,  but  the  unfortunate  fact  remains.  You  were 
the  only  man  who  ever  thoroughly  grasped  the  situation  and 
attained  any  real  influence  over  the  master  of  western  Asia ! 
Your  removal  from  Teheran  was  the  result  of  an  intrigue  on 
the  part  of  the  English.  It  was  the  greatest  misfortune 
which  ever  befel  Russia  ! " 

"  And  your  offer  ?  "  Mr.  Sabin  asked. 

"  Is  that  you  return  to  Teheran  not  as  the  secret  agent, 
but  as  the  accredited  ambassador  of  Russia,  with  an  abso- 
lutely free  hand  and  unlimited  powers." 


324  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"  Such  an  offer,"  Mr.  Sabin  remarked,  "  ten  years  ago 
would  have  made  Russia  mistress  of  all  Asia." 

"The  Czar,"  Felix  said,  "  is  beginning  to  appreciate  that. 
But  what  was  possible  then  is  possible  now ! " 

Mr.  Sabin  shook  his  head.  "  I  am  ten  years  older,"  he 
said,  "  and  the  Shah  who  was  my  friend  is  dead." 

"  The  new  Shah,"  Felix  said, "  has  a  passion  for  intrigue, 
and  the  sands  around  Teheran  are  magnificent  for  golf." 

Mr.  Sabin  shook  his  head. 

"Too  hard,"  he  said,  "and  too  monotonous.  I  am 
peculiar  perhaps  in  that  respect,  but  I  detest  artificial 
bunkers.  Now  there  is  a  little  valley,"  he  continued 
thoughtfully,  "  about  seven  miles  north  of  Teheran,  where 
something  might  be  done  !  I  wonder " 

"  You  accept,"  Felix  asked  quietly. 

Mr.  Sabin  shook  his  head. 

"  No,  I  decline." 

It  was  a  shock  to  Felix,  but  he  hid  his  disappointment. 

"Absolutely?" 

"And  finally." 

"Why?" 

"  I  am  ten  years  too  old  1 " 

"  That  is  resentment !  " 

Mr.  Sabin  denied  it. 

"  No  !  Why  should  I  not  be  frank  with  you,  my  friend  ? 
What  I  would  have  done  for  Russia  ten  years  ago,  I  would 
not  do  to-day  !  She  has  -made  friends  with  the  French 
Republic.  She  has  done  more  than  recognise  the  exis- 
tence of  that  iniquitous  institution — she  has  pressed  her 
friendship  upon  the  president — she  has  spoken  the  word  of 
alliance.  Henceforth  my  feeling  for  Russia  has  changed. 
I  have  no  object  to  gain  in  her  development.  I  am  richer 
than  the  richest  of  her  nobles,  and  there  is  no  title  in 
Europe  for  which  I  would  exchange  my  own.  You  see 
Russia  has  absolutely  nothing  to  offer  me.  On  the  other 


THE  WAY  TO  PAU  325 

hand,  what  would  benefit  Russia  in  Asia  would  ruin 
England,  and  England  has  given  me  and  many  of  my 
kind  a  shelter,  and  has  even  held  aloof  from  France.  Of 
the  two  countries  I  would  much  prefer  to  aid  England.  If 
I  had  been  the  means  of  destroying  her  Asiatic  empire  ten 
years  ago  it  would  have  been  to  me  to-day  a  source  of 
lasting  regret.  There,  my  friend,  I  have  paid  you  the  com- 
pliment of  perfect  frankness." 

"If,"  Felix  said  slowly,  "the  price  of  your  success  at 
Teheran  should  be  the  breach  of  our  covenants  with 
France — what  then  ?  Remember  that  it  is  the  country 
whose  friendship  is  pleasing  to  us,  not  the  government. 
You  cannot  seriously  doubt  but  that  an  autocrat,  such 
as  the  Czar,  would  prefer  to  extend  his  hand  to  an 
Emperor  of  France  than  to  soil  his  fingers  with  the  clasp 
of  a  tradesman  ! " 

Mr.  Sabin  shook  his  head  softly.  "I  have  told  you 
why  I  decline,"  he  said,  "  but  in  my  heart  there  are  many 
other  reasons.  For  one,  I  am  no  longer  a  young  man. 
This  last  failure  of  mine  has  aged  me.  I  have  no  heart 
for  fresh  adventures." 

Felix  sighed. 

"  My  mission  to  you  comes,"  he  said,  "at  an  unfortunate 
time.  "  For  the  present,  then,  I  accept  defeat." 

"The  fault,"  Mr.  Sabin  murmured,  "is  in  no  way  with 
you.  My  refusal  was  a  thing  predestined.  The  Czar  him- 
self could  not  move  me." 

The  train  was  slowing  a  little.  Felix  looked  out  of  the 
window. 

"  We  are  nearing  Crewe,"  he  said.  "  I  shall  alight  then 
and  return  to  London.  You  are  for  America,  then  ?  " 

"  Beyond  doubt,"  Mr.  Sabin  declared. 

Felix  drew  from  his  pocket  a  letter. 

"  If  you  will  deliver  this  for  me,"  he  said,  "  you  will  do 
me  a  kindness,  and  you  will  make  a  pleasant  acquaintance." 


326  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

Mr.  Sabin  glanced  at  the  imprescription.  It  was  ad- 
dressed to — 

"  Mrs.  J.  B.  Peterson, 
"  Lenox, 

"Mass.,  U.S.A." 

"  I  will  do  so  with  pleasure,"  he  remarked,  slipping  it  into 
his  dressing-case. 

"And  remember  this,"  Felix  remarked,  glancing  out  at 
the  platform  along  which  they  were  gliding.  You  are  a 
marked  man.  Disguise  is  useless  for  you.  Be  ever  on 
your  guard.  You  and  I  have  been  enemies,  but  after  all 
you  are  too  great  a  man  to  fall  by  the  hand  of  a  German 
assassin.  Farewell ! " 

"  I  will  thank  you  for  your  caution  and  remember  it," 
Mr.  Sabin  answered.  "  Farewell !  " 

Felix  raised  his  hat,  and  Mr.  Sabin  returned  the  salute. 
The  whistle  sounded.  Felix  stepped  out  on  to  the  plat- 
form. 

"  You  will  not  forget  the  letter  ?  "  he  asked. 

"I  will  deliver  it  in  person  without  fail,"  Mr.  Sabin 
answered. 


CHAPTER  XLI 

MR.    AND    MRS.    WATSON    OF   NEW   YORK 

IT  was  their  third  day  out,  and  Mr.  Sabin  was  enjoying  the 
voyage  very  much  indeed.  The  Calipha  was  a  small  boat 
sailing  to  Boston  instead  of  New  York,  and  contemptuously 
termed  by  the  ocean-going  public  an  old  tub.  She  carried, 
consequently,  only  seven  passengers  besides  Mr.  Sabin,  and 
it  had  taken  him  but  a  very  short  time  to  decide  that  of 
those  seven  passengers  not  one  was  interested  in  him  or  his 
affairs.  He  had  got  clear  away,  for  the  present  at  any  rate, 
from  all  the  complications  and  dangers  which  had  followed 
upon  the  failure  of  his  great  scheme.  Of  course  by  this 
time  the  news  of  his  departure  and  destination  was  known 
to  every  one  whom  his  movements  concerned.  That 
was  almost  a  matter  of  course,  and  realising  even  the 
impossibility  of  successful  concealment,  Mr.  Sabin  had 
made  no  attempt  at  any.  He  had  given  the  name  of  Sabin 
to  the  steward,  and  had  secured  the  deck's  cabin  for  his 
own  use.  He  chatted  every  day  with  the  captain,  who 
treated  him  with  respect,  and  in  reply  to  a  question  from 
one  of  the  stewards  who  was  a  Frenchman,  he  admitted 
that  he  was  the  Due  de  Souspennier,  and  that  he  was 
travelling  incognito  only  as  a  whim.  He  was  distinctly 
popular  with  every  one  of  the  seven  passengers,  who  were 
a  little  doubtful  how  to  address  him,  but  whom  he  succeeded 

327 


328  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

always  in  putting  entirely  at  their  ease.  He  entered,  too, 
freely  into  the  little  routine  of  steamer  life.  He  played 
shuffleboard  for  an  hour  or  more  every  morning,  and  was 
absolutely  invincible  at  the  game ;  he  brought  his  golf  clubs 
on  deck  one  evening  after  dinner,  and  explained  the  manner 
of  their  use  to  an  admiring  little  circle  of  the  seven  passen- 
gers, the  captain,  and  doctor.  He  rigorously  supported  the 
pool  each  day,  and  he  even  took  a  hand  at  a  mild  game  of 
poker  one  wet  afternoon,  when  timidly  invited  to  do  so  by 
Mr.  Hiram  Shedge,  an  oil  merchant  of  Boston.  He  had 
in  no  way  the  deportment  or  manner  of  a  man  who  had  just 
passed  through  a  great  crisis,  nor  would  any  one  have 
gathered  from  his  conversation  or  demeanour  that  he  was 
the  head  of  one  of  the  greatest  houses  in  Europe  and  a 
millionaire.  The  first  time  a  shadow  crossed  his  face  was 
late  one  afternoon,  when,  coming  on  deck  a  little  behind 
the  others  after  lunch,  he  found  them  all  leaning  over  the 
starboard  bow,  gazing  intently  at  some  object  a  little  dis- 
tance off,  and  at  the  same  time  became  aware  that  the 
engines  had  been  put  to  half-speed. 

He  was  strolling  towards  the  little  group,  when  the 
captain,  seeing  him,  beckoned  him  on  to  the  bridge. 

"  Here's  something  that  will  interest  you,  Mr.  Sabin,"  he 
called  out.  "  Won't  you  step  this  way  ?  " 

Mr.  Sabin  mounted  the  iron  steps  carefully  but  with  his 
eyes  turned  seawards ;  a  large  yacht  of  elegant  shape  and 
painted  white  from  stern  to  bows  was  lying-to  about  half  a 
mile  off  flying  signals. 

Mr.  Sabin  reached  the  bridge  and  stood  by  the  captain's 
side. 

"A  pleasure  yacht,"  he  remarked.   "  What  does  she  want  ?  " 

"  I  shall  know  in  a  moment,"  the  captain  answered  with 
his  glass  to  his  eye.  "  She  flew  a  distress  signal  at  first  for 
us  to  stand  by,  so  I  suppose  she's  in  trouble.  Ah  !  there  it 
goes.  '  Mainshaft  broken,'  she  says." 


MR.  AND  MRS.  WATSON  OF  NEW  YORK         329 

"  She  doesn't  lie  like  it,"  Mr.  Sabin  remarked  quietly. 

The  captain  looked  at  him  with  a  smile. 

"  You  know  a  bit  about  yachting  too,"  he  said,  "  and,  to 
tell  you  the  truth,  that's  just  what  I  was  thinking." 

"  Holmes." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Ask  her  what  she  wants  us  to  do." 

The  signalman  touched  his  hat,  and  the  little  row  of  flags 
ran  fluttering  up  in  the  breeze. 

"  She  signals  herself  the  May/lower,  private  yacht,  owner 
Mr.  James  Watson  of  New  York,"  he  remarked.  "  She's  a 
beautiful  boat." 

Mr.  Sabin,  who  had  brought  his  own  glasses,  looked  at 
her  long  and  steadily. 

"She's  not  an  American  built  boat,  at  any  rate,"  he 
remarked. 

An  answering  signal  came  fluttering  back.  The  captain 
opened  his  book  and  read  it. 

"  She's  going  on  under  canvas,"  he  said,  "  but  she  wants 
us  to  take  her  owner  and  his  wife  on  board." 

"  Are  you  compelled  to  do  so  ?  "  Mr.  Sabin  asked. 

The  captain  laughed. 

"  Not  exactly !  I'm  not  expected  to  pick  up  passengers 
in  mid  ocean." 

"  Then  I  shouldn't  do  it,"  Mr.  Sabin  said.  "  If  they  are 
in  a  hurry  the  Alaska  is  due  up  to-day,  isn't  she  ?  and  she'll 
be  in  New  York  in  three  days,  and  the  Baltimore  must  be 
close  behind  her.  I  should  let  them  know  that." 

"Well,"  the  captain  answered,  "I  don't  want  fresh  passen- 
gers bothering  just  now." 

The  flags  were  run  up,  and  the  replies  came  back  as 
promptly.  The  captain  shut  up  his  glass  with  a  bang. 

"  No  getting  out  of  them,"  he  remarked  to  Mr.  Sabin. 
"They  reply  that  the  lady  is  nervous  and  will  not  wait; 
they  are  coming  on  board  at  once — for  fear  I  should  go 


330  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

on,  I  suppose.  They  add  that  Mr.  Watson  is  the  largest 
American  holder  of  Cunard  stock  and  a  director  of  the 
American  Board,  so  have  them  we  must — that's  pretty 
certain.  I  must  see  the  purser." 

He  descended,  and  Mr.  Sabin,  following  him,  joined  the 
little  group  of  passengers.  They  all  stood  together  watching 
the  long  rowing  boat  which  was  coming  swiftly  towards 
them  through  the  smooth  sea.  Mr.  Sabin  explained  to 
them  the  messages  which  had  passed,  and  together  they 
admired  the  disabled  yacht. 

Mr.  Sabin  touched  the  first  mate  on  the  arm  as  he  passed. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  a  vessel  like  that,  Johnson  ? "  he 
remarked. 

The  man  shook  his  head. 

"  Their  engineer  is  a  fool,  sir ! "  he  declared  scornfully. 
"  Nothing  but  my  own  eyes  would  make  me  believe  there's 
anything  serious  the  matter  with  her  shaft." 

"  I  agree  with  you,"  Mr.  Sabin  said  quietly. 

The  boat  was  now  within  hailing  distance.  Mr.  Sabin 
leaned  down  over  the  side  and  scanned  its  occupants  closely. 
There  was  nothing  in  the  least  suspicious  about  them.  The 
man  who  sat  in  the  stern  steering  was  a  typical  American, 
with  thin  sallow  face  and  bright  eyes.  The  woman  wore  a 
thick  veil,  but  she  was  evidently  young,  and  when  she  stood 
up  displayed  a  figure  and  clothes  distinctly  Parisian.  The 
two  came  up  the  ladder  as  though  perfectly  used  to  boarding 
a  vessel  in  mid  ocean,  and  the  lady's  nervousness  was  at 
least  not  apparent.  The  captain  advanced  to  meet  them, 
and  gallantly  assisted  the  lady  on  to  the  deck. 

"This  is  Captain  Ackinson,  I  presume,"  the  man  re- 
marked with  extended  hand.  "  We  are  exceedingly  obliged 
to  you,  sir,  for  taking  us  off.  This  is  my  wife,  Mrs.  James 
B.  Watson." 

Mrs.  Watson  raised  her  veil,  and  disclosed  a  dark,  piquant 
face  with  wonderfully  bright  eyes. 


MR.  AND  MRS.  WATSON  OF  NEW  YORK         33! 

"  It's  real  nice  of  you,  Captain,"  she  said  frankly.  "  You 
don't  know  how  good  it  is  to  feel  the  deck  of  a  real  ocean- 
going steamer  beneath  your  feet  after  that  little  sailing  boat 
of  my  husband's.  This  is  the  very  last  time  I  attempt  to 
cross  the  Atlantic  except  on  one  of  your  steamers." 

"  We  are  very  glad  to  be  of  any  assistance,"  the  captain 
answered,  more  heartily  than  a  few  minutes  before  he  would 
have  believed  possible.  "  Full  speed  ahead,  John  ! " 

There  was  a  churning  of  water  and  dull  throb  of 
machinery  restarting.  The  little  rowing  boat,  already  well 
away  on  its  return  journey,  rocked  on  the  long  waves.  Mr. 
Watson  turned  to  shout  some  final  instructions.  Then  the 
captain  beckoned  to  the  purser. 

"  Mr.  Wilson  will  show  you  your  state  rooms,"  he 
remarked.  "  Fortunately  we  have  plenty  of  room.  Steward, 
take  the  baggage  down." 

The  lady  went  below,  but  Mr.  Watson  remained  on  deck 
talking  to  the  captain.  Mr.  Sabin  strolled  up  to  them. 

"  Your  yacht  rides  remarkably  well,  if  her  shaft  is  really 
broken,"  he  remarked. 

Mr.  Watson  nodded. 

"She's  a  beautifully  built  boat,"  he  remarked  with 
enthusiasm.  "If  the  weather  is  favourable  her  canvas 
will  bring  her  into  Boston  Harbour  two  days  after  us." 

"  I  suppose,"  the  captain  asked,  looking  at  her  through 
his  glass,  "  you  satisfied  yourself  that  her  shaft  was  really 
broken?" 

"  I  did  not,  sir,"  Mr.  Watson  answered.  "  My  engineer 
reported  it  so,  and,  as  I  know  nothing  of  machinery  myself, 
I  was  content  to  take  his  word.  He  holds  very  fine 
diplomas,  and  I  presume  he  knows  what  he  is  talking 
about.  But  anyway  Mrs.  Watson  would  never  have  stayed 
upon  that  boat  one  moment  longer  than  she  was  com- 
pelled. She's  a  wonderfully  nervous  woman  is  Mrs. 
Watson." 


33a  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"  That's  a  somewhat  unsual  trait  for  your  countrywoman, 
is  it  not  ?  "  Mr.  Sabin  asked. 

Mr.  J.  B.  Watson  looked  steadily  at  his  questioner. 

"  My  wife,  sir,"  he  said,  "  has  lived  for  many  years  on 
the  Continent.  She  would  scarcely  consider  herself  an 
American." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  Mr.  Sabin  remarked  courteously. 
"  One  can  see  at  least  that  she  has  acquired  the  polish  of 
the  only  habitable  country  in  the  world.  But  if  I  had  taken 
the  liberty  of  guessing  at  her  nationality,  I  should  have 
taken  her  to  be  a  German." 

Mr.  Watson  raised  his  eyebrows,  and  somehow  managed 
to  drop  the  match  he  was  raising  to  his  cigar. 

"You  astonish  me  very  much,  sir,"  he  remarked.  "I 
always  looked  upon  the  fair,  rotund  woman  as  the  typical 
German  face." 

Mr.  Sabin  shook  his  head  gently. 

"  There  are  many  types,"  he  said  "  and  nationality,  you 
know,  does  not  always  go  by  complexion  or  size.  For 
instance,  you  are  very  like  many  American  gentlemen 
whom  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting,  but  at  the 
same  time  I  should  not  have  taken  you  for  an  American." 

The  captain  laughed. 

"I  can't  agree  with  you,  Mr.  Sabin,"  he  said.  "Mr. 
Watson  appears  to  me  to  be,  if  he  will  pardon  my  saying 
so,  the  very  type  of  the  modern  American  man." 

"  I'm  much  obliged  to  you,  Captain,"  Mr.  Watson  said 
cheerfully.  "  I'm  a  Boston  man,  that's  sure,  and  I  believe, 
sir,  I'm  proud  of  it.  I  want  to  know  for  what  nationality 
you  would  have  taken  me  if  you  had  not  been  informed  ?  " 

"I  should  have  looked  for  you  also,"  Mr.  Sabin  said 
deliberately,  "in  the  streets  of  Berlin." 


CHAPTER  XLII 

A  WEAK   CONSPIRATOR 

AT  dinner-time  Mrs.  Watson  appeared  in  a  very  dainty 
toilette  of  black  and  white,  and  was  installed  at  the 
captain's  right  hand.  She  was  introduced  at  once  to  Mr. 
Sabin,  and  proceeded  to  make  herself  a  very  agreeable 
companion. 

"  Why,  I  call  this  perfectly  delightful ! "  was  almost  her 
first  exclamation,  after  a  swift  glance  at  Mr.  Sabin's 
quiet  but  irreproachable  dinner  attire.  "  You  can't 
imagine  how  pleased  I  am  to  find  myself  once  more  in 
civilised  society.  I  was  never  so  dull  in  my  life  as  on 
that  poky  little  yacht." 

"  Poky  little  yacht,  indeed  ! "  Mr.  Watson  interrupted, 
with  a  note  of  annoyance  in  his  tone.  "  The  Mayflower 
anyway  cost  me  pretty  well  two  hundred  thousand  dollars, 
and  she's  nearly  the  largest  pleasure  yacht  afloat." 

"I  don't  care  if  she  cost  you  a  million  dollars,"  Mrs. 
Watson  answered  pettishly.  "  I  never  want  to  sail  on  her 
again.  I  prefer  this  infinitely." 

She  laughed  at  Captain  Ackinson,  and  her  husband  con- 
tinued his  dinner  in  silence.  Mr.  Sabin  made  a  mental 
note  of  two  things — first,  that  Mr.  Watson  did  not  treat  his 
wife  with  that  consideration  which  is  supposed  to  be  dis- 
tinctive of  American  husbands ,  and  secondly,  that  he  drank 

333 


334  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

a  good  deal  of  wine  without  becoming  even  a  shade  more 
amiable.  His  wife  somewhat  pointedly  drank  water,  and 
turning  her  right  shoulder  upon  her  husband,  devoted 
herself  to  the  entertainment  of  her  two  companions.  At 
the  conclusion  of  the  meal  the  captain  was  her  abject 
slave,  and  Mr.  Sabin  was  quite  willing  to  admit  that  Mrs. 
J.  B.  Watson,  whatever  her  nationality  might  be,  was  a 
very  charming  woman. 

After  dinner  Mr.  Sabin  went  to  his  lower  state  room  for 
an  overcoat,  and  whilst  feeling  for  some  cigars,  heard  voices 
in  the  adjoining  room,  which  had  been  empty  up  to  now. 

"  Won't  you  come  and  walk  with  me,  James  ?  "  he  heard 
Mrs.  Watson  say.  "  It  is  such  a  nice  evening,  and  I  want 
to  go  on  deck." 

"You  can  go  without  me,  then,"  was  the  gruff  answer. 
"  I'm  going  to  have  a  cigar  in  the  smoke-room." 

"  You  can  smoke,"  she  reminded  him,  "  on  deck." 

"  Thanks,"  he  replied,  "  but  I  don't  care  to  give  my 
Laranagas  to  the  winds.  You  would  come  here,  and  you 
must  do  the  best  you  can.  You  can't  expect  to  have  me 
dangling  after  you  all  the  time." 

There  was  a  silence,  and  then  the  sound  of  Mr.  Watson's 
heavy  tread,  as  he  left  the  state  room,  followed  in  a  moment 
or  two  by  the  light  footsteps  and  soft  rustle  of  silk  skirts, 
which  indicated  the  departure  also  of  his  wife. 

Mr.  Sabin  carefully  enveloped  himself  in  an  ulster,  and 
stood  for  a  moment  or  two  wondering  whether  that  conver- 
sation was  meant  to  be  overheard  or  not.  He  rang  the  bell 
for  the  steward. 

The  man  appeared  almost  immediately.  Mr.  Sabin  had 
known  how  to  ensure  prompt  service. 

"Was  it  my  fancy,  John?  or  did  I  hear  voices  in  the 
state  room  opposite  ?  "  Mr.  Sabin  asked. 

"  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Watson  have  taken  it,  sir,"  the  man 
answered. 


A  WEAK  CONSPIRATOR  335 

Mr.  Sabin  appeared  annoyed. 

"You  know  that  some  of  my  clothes  are  hung  up 
there,"  he  remarked,  and  I  have  been  using  it  as  a 
dressing-room.  There  are  heaps  of  state-rooms  vacant 
Surely  you  could  have  found  them  another?" 

"  I  did  my  best,  sir,  the  man  answered,  "  but  they  seemed 
to  take  a  particular  fancy  to  that  one.  I  couldn't  get  them 
off  it  nohow." 

"  Did  they  know,"  Mr.  Sabin  asked  carelessly,  "  that  the 
room  opposite  was  occupied  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  the  man  answered.  "  I  told  them  that  you 
were  in  number  twelve,  and  that  you  used  this  as  a  dressing- 
room,  but  they  wouldn't  shift.  It  was  very  foolish  of  them, 
too,  for  they  wanted  two,  one  each ;  and  they  could  just  as 
well  have  had  them  together." 

"Just  as  well,"  Mr.  Sabin  remarked  quietly.  "Thank 
you,  John.  Don't  let  them  know  I  have  spoken  to  you 
about  it." 

"  Certainly  not,  sir." 

Mr.  Sabin  walked  upon  deck.  As  he  passed  the  smoke- 
room  he  saw  Mr.  Watson  stretched  upon  a  sofa  with  a  cigar 
in  his  mouth.  Mr.  Sabin  smiled  to  himself,  and  passed 
on. 

The  evening  promenade  on  deck  after  dinner  was 
quite  a  social  event  on  board  the  Calipha.  As  a  rule 
the  captain  and  Mr.  Sabin  strolled  together,  none  of 
the  other  passengers,  notwithstanding  Mr.  Sabin's  courtesy 
towards  them,  having  yet  attempted  in  any  way  to  thrust 
their  society  upon  him.  But  to-night,  as  he  had  half  ex^ 
pected,  the  captain  had  already  a  companion.  Mrs. 
Watson,  with  a  very  becoming  wrap  around  her  head, 
and  a  cigarette  in  her  mouth,  was  walking  by  his  side, 
chatting  gaily  most  of  the  time,  but  listening  also  with  an 
air  of  absorbed  interest  to  the  personal  experiences  which 
her  questions  provoked.  Every  now  and  then,  as  they 


336  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

passed  Mr.  Sabin,  sometimes  walking,  sometimes  gazing 
with  an  absorbed  air  at  the  distant  chaos  of  sea  and 
sky,  she  flashed  a  glance  of  invitation  upon  him,  which  he 
as  often  ignored.  Once  she  half  stopped  and  asked  him 
some  slight  question,  but  he  answered  it  briefly  standing  on 
one  side,  and  the  captain  hurried  her  on.  It  was  a  stroke 
of  ill-fortune,  he  thought  to  himself,  the  coming  of  these  two 
people.  He  had  had  a  clear  start  and  a  fair  field  ;  now  he 
was  suddenly  face  to  face  with  a  danger,  the  full  extent  of 
which  it  was  hard  to  estimate.  For  he  could  scarcely  doubt 
but  that  their  coming  was  on  his  account.  They  had  played 
their  parts  well,  but  they  were  secret  agents  of  the  German 
police.  He  smoked  his  cigar  leisurely,  the  object  every 
few  minutes  of  many  side  glances  and  covert  smiles  from 
the  delicately  attired  little  lady,  whose  silken  skirts,  daintily 
raised  from  the  ground,  brushed  against  him  every  few 
minutes  as  she  and  her  companion  passed  and  repassed. 
What  was  their  plan  of  action  ?  he  wondered.  If  it  was 
simply  to  be  assassination,  why  so  elaborate  an  artifice  ?  and 
what  worse  place  in  the  world  could  there  be  for  anything 
of  the  sort  than  the  narrow  confines  of  a  small  steamer  ? 
No,  there  was  evidently  something  more  complex  on  hand. 
Was  the  woman  brought  as  a  decoy  ?  he  wondered ;  did 
they  really  imagine  him  capable  of  being  dazzled  or  fascina- 
ted by  any  woman  on  the  earth  ?  He  smiled  softly  at  the 
thought,  and  the  sight  of  that  smile  lingering  upon  his 
lips  brought  her  to  a  standstill.  He  heard  suddenly  the 
swish  of  her  skirt,  and  her  soft  voice  in  his  ear.  Lower 
down  the  deck  the  captain's  broad  shoulders  were  dis- 
appearing, as  he  passed  on  the  way  to  the  engineers'  room 
for  his  nightly  visit  of  inspection. 

"  You  have  not  made  a  single  effort  to  rescue  me,"  she 
said  reproachfully ;  "  you  are  most  unkind." 

Mr.  Sabin  lifted  his  cap,  and  removed  the  cigar  from  his 
teeth. 


A  WEAK  CONSPIRATOR  337 

"  My  dear  lady,"  he  said,  "  I  have  been  suffering  the 
pangs  of  the  neglected,  but  how  dared  I  break  in  upon  so 
confidential  a  tete-a-tete  f  " 

"  You  have  little  of  the  courage  of  your  nation,  then," 
she  answered  laughing,  "  for  I  gave  you  many  opportunities. 
But  you  have  been  engrossed  with  your  thoughts,  and  they 
succeeded  at  least  where  I  failed — you  were  distinctly 
smiling  when  I  came  upon  you." 

"It  was  a  premonition,"  he  began,  but  she  raised  a 
little  white  hand,  flashing  with  rings,  to  his  lips,  and  he 
was  silent. 

"  Please  don't  think  it  necessary  to  talk  nonsense  to  me 
all  the  time,"  she  begged.  "  Come  !  I  am  tired — I  want  to 
sit  down.  Don't  you  want  to  take  my  chair  down  by  the 
side  of  the  boat  there  ?  I  like  to  watch  the  lights  on  the 
water,  and  you  may  talk  to  me — if  you  like." 

"  Your  husband,"  he  remarked  a  moment  or  two  later,  as 
he  arranged  her  cushions,  "does  not  care  for  the  evening 
air?" 

"  It  is  sufficient  for  him,"  she  answered  quietly,  "  that  I 
prefer  it.  He  will  not  leave  the  smoking-room  until  the 
lights  are  put  out." 

"  In  an  ordinary  way,"  he  remarked,  "  that  must  be  dull 
for  you." 

"  In  an  ordinary  way,  and  every  way,"  she  answered  in  a 
low  tone,  "I  am  always  dull.  But,  after  all,  I  must  not 
weary  a  stranger  with  my  woes.  Tell  me  about  yourself, 
Mr.  Sabin.  Are  you  going  to  America  on  pleasure,  or  have 
you  business  there  ?  " 

A  faint  smile  flickered  across  Mr.  Sabin's  face.  He 
watched  the  white  ash  trembling  upon  his  cigar  for  a 
moment  before  he  spoke. 

"  I  can  scarcely  be  said  to  be  going  to  America  on 
pleasure,"  he  answered,  "nor  have  I  any  business  there. 
Let  us  agree  that  I  am  going  because  it  is  the  one  country 

22 


338  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

in  the  world  of  any  importance  which  I  have  never 
visited." 

"  You  have  been  a  great  traveller,  then,"  she  murmured, 
looking  up  at  him  with  innocent,  wide-open  eyes.  "  You 
look  as  though  you  have  been  everywhere.  Won't  you  tell 
me  about  some  of  the  odd  places  you  have  visited  ?  " 

"  With  pleasure,"  he  answered ;  "  but  first  won't  you 
gratify  a  natural  and  very  specific  curiosity  of  mine  ?  I  am 
going  to  a  country  which  I  have  never  visited  before.  Tell 
me  a  little  about  it.  Let  us  talk  about  America." 

She  stole  a  sudden,  swift  glance  at  her  questioner.  No, 
he  did  not  appear  to  be  watching  her.  His  eyes  were 
fixed  idly  upon  the  sheet  of  phosphorescent  light  which 
glittered  in  the  steamer's  track.  Nevertheless,  she  was 
a  little  uneasy. 

"  America,"  she  said,  after  a  moment's  pause,  "  is  the 
one  country  I  detest.  We  are  only  there  very  seldom — 
when  Mr.  Watson's  business  demands  it.  You  could 
not  seek  for  information  from  any  one  worse  informed 
than  I  am." 

"  How  strange  ! "  he  said  softly.  "  You  are  the  first  un- 
patriotic American  I  have  ever  met." 

"  You  should  be  thankful,"  she  remarked,  "  that  I  am  an 
exception.  Isn't  it  pleasant  to  meet  people  who  are  differ- 
ent from  other  people  ?  " 

"  In  the  present  case  it  is  delightful ! " 

"  I  wonder,"  she  said  reflectively,  "  in  which  school  you 
studied  my  sex,  and  from  what  particular  woman  you 
learned  the  art  of  making  those  little  speeches  ? " 

"  I  can  assure  you  that  I  am  a  novice,"  he  declared. 

"Then  you  have  a  wonderful  future  before  you.  You 
will  make  a  courtier,  Mr.  Sabin." 

"  I  shall  be  happy  to  be  the  humblest  of  attendants  in 
the  court  where  you  are  queen." 

"  Such  proficiency,"  she  murmured,  "  is  the  hall  mark 


A  WEAK  CONSPIRATOR  339 

of  insincerity.  You  are  not  a  man  to  be  trusted,  Mr. 
Sabin." 

"  Try  me,"  he  begged. 

"  I  will !     I  will  tell  you  a  secret." 

"I  will  lock  it  in  the  furthest  chamber  of  my  inner 
consciousness." 

"  I  am  going  to  America  for  a  purpose." 

"Wonderful woman,"  he  murmured,  "to  have  a  purpose." 

"  I  am  going  to  get  a  divorce  ! " 

Mr.  Sabin  was  suddenly  thoughtful. 

"  I  have  always  understood,"  he  said,  "  that  the  marriage 
laws  of  America  are  convenient." 

"  They  are  humane.  They  make  me  thankful  that  I  am 
an  American." 

Mr.  Sabin  inclined  his  head  slightly  towards  the  smoking- 
room. 

"  Does  your  unfortunate  husband  know  ?  " 

"  He  does ;  and  he  acquiesces.  He  has  no  alternative. 
But  is  that  quite  nice  of  you,  Mr.  Sabin,  to  call  my  husband 
an  unfortunate  man  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  conceive,"  he  said  slowly,  "greater  misery 
than  to  have  possessed  and  lost  you." 

She  laughed  gaily.  Mr.  Sabin  permitted  himself  to 
admire  that  laugh.  It  was  like  the  tinkling  of  a  silver 
bell,  and  her  teeth  were  perfect. 

"You  are  incorrigible,"  she  said.  "I  believe  that  if  I 
would  let  you,  you  would  make  love  to  me." 

"If  I  thought,"  he  answered,  "that  you  would  never 
allow  me  to  make  love  to  you,  I  should  feel  like  following 
this  cigar."  He  threw  it  into  the  sea. 

She  sighed,  and  tapped  her  little  French  heel  upon  the 
deck. 

"  What  a  pity  that  you  are  like  all  other  men." 

"I  will  say  nothing  so  unkind  of  you,"  he  remarked. 
"  You  are  unlike  any  other  woman  whom  I  ever  met." 


340  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

They  listened  together  to  the  bells  sounding  from  the 
quarter  deck.  It  was  eleven  o'clock.  The  deck  behind 
them  was  deserted,  and  a  fine  drizzling  rain  was  beginning 
to  fall.  Mrs.  Watson  removed  the  rug  from  her  knees 
regretfully. 

"  I  must  go,"  she  said  ;  "  do  you  hear  how  late  it  is  ?  " 

"  You  will  tell  me  all  about  America,"  he  said,  rising  and 
drawing  back  her  chair,  "  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  If  we  can  find  nothing  more  interesting  to  talk  about," 
she  said,  looking  up  at  him  with  a  sparkle  in  her  dark  eyes. 
"  Good-night." 

Her  hand,  very  small  and  white,  and  very  soft,  lingered 
in  his.  At  that  moment  an  unpleasant  voice  sounded  in 
their  ears. 

"  Do  you  know  the  time,  Violet  ?  The  lights  are  out  all 
over  the  ship.  I  don't  understand  what  you  are  doing  on 
deck." 

Mr.  Watson  was  not  pleasant  to  look  upon.  His  eyes 
were  puffy,  and  swollen,  and  he  was  not  quite  steady  upon 
his  feet.  His  wife  looked  at  him  in  cold  displeasure. 

"  The  lights  are  out  in  the  smoke-room,  I  suppose,"  she 
said,  "  or  we  should  not  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you. 
Good-night,  Mr.  Sabin !  Thank  you  so  much  for  looking 
after  me ! " 

Mr.  Sabin  bowed  and  walked  slowly  away,  lighting  a 
fresh  cigarette.  If  it  was  acting,  it  was  very  admirably 
done. 


CHAPTER  XLIII 

THE  COMING   OF   THE    "  KAISER   WILHELM " 

THE  habit  of  early  rising  was  one  which  Mr.  Sabin  had 
never  cultivated,  and  breakfast  was  a  meal  which  he 
abhorred.  It  was  not  until  nearly  midday  on  the  following 
morning  that  he  appeared  on  deck,  and  he  had  scarcely 
exchanged  his  customary  greeting  with  the  captain,  before 
he  was  joined  by  Mr.  Watson,  who  had  obviously  been  on 
the  look-out  for  him. 

"  I  want,  sir,"  the  latter  commenced,  "to  apologise  to  you 
for  my  conduct  last  night." 

Mr.  Sabin  looked  at  him  keenly. 

"  There  is  no  necessity  for  anything  of  the  sort,"  he  said. 
"  If  any  apology  is  owing  at  all,  it  is,  I  think,  to  your  wife." 

Mr.  Watson  shook  his  head  vigorously. 

"  No,  sir,"  he  declared,  "  I  am  ashamed  to  say  that  I  am 
not  very  clear  as  to  the  actual  expressions  I  made,  but  Mrs. 
Watson  has  assured  me  that  my  behaviour  to  you  was  dis- 
courteous in  the  extreme." 

"  I  hope  you  will  think  no  more  of  it.  I  had  already,"  Mr 
Sabin  said,  "  forgotten  the  circumstance.  It  is  not  of  the 
slightest  consequence." 

"  You  are  very  good,"  Mr.  Watson  said  softly. 

"  I  had  the  pleasure,"  Mr.  Sabin  remarked,  "  of  an  inte- 
resting conversation  with  your  wife  last  night.  You  are  a 
very  fortunate  man." 

341 


342  *   MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"  I  think  so  indeed,  sir,"  Mr.  Watson  replied  modestly. 

"  American  women,"  Mr.  Sabin  continued,  looking  medi- 
tatively out  to  sea,  "  are  very  fascinating." 

"  I  have  always  found  them  so,"  Mr.  Watson  agreed. 

"  Mrs.  Watson,"  Mr.  Sabin  said,  "  told  me  so  much  that 
was  interesting  about  your  wonderful  country  that  I  am 
looking  forward  to  my  visit  more  than  ever." 

Mr.  Watson  darted  a  keen  glance  at  his  companion.  He 
was  suddenly  on  his  guard.  For  the  first  time  he  realised 
something  of  the  resources  of  this  man  with  whom  he  had 
to  deal. 

"My  wife,"  he  said,  "knows  really  very  little  of  her 
native  country ;  she  has  lived  nearly  all  her  life  abroad." 

"So  I  perceived,"  Mr.  Sabin  answered.  "Shall  we  sit 
down  a  moment,  Mr.  Watson?  One  wearies  so  of  this 
incessant  promenading,  and  there  is  a  little  matter  which  I 
fancy  that  you  and  I  might  discuss  with  advantage." 

Mr.  Watson  obeyed  in  silence.  This  was  a  wonderful 
man  with  whom  he  had  to  deal.  Already  he  felt  that  all 
the  elaborate  precautions  of  his  coming  had  been  wasted. 
He  might  be  Mr.  James  B.  AVatson,  the  New  York  yacht 
owner  and  millionaire,  to  the  captain  and  his  seven  passen- 
gers, but  he  was  nothing  of  the  sort  to  Mr.  Sabin.  He 
shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  followed  him  to  a  seat.  After 
all  silence  was  a  safe  card. 

"  I'm  going,"  Mr.  Sabin  said,  "  to  be  very  frank  with  you. 
I  know,  of  course,  who  you  are." 

Mr.  Watson  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Do  you  ?  "  he  remarked  dryly. 

Mr.  Sabin  bowed,  with  a  faint  smile  at  the  corner  of  his 
lips. 

"  Certainly,"  he  answered,  "  you  are  Mr.  James  B.  Watson 
of  New  York,  and  the  lady  with  you  is  your  wife.  Now  I 
want  to  tell  you  a  little  about  myself." 

"  Most  interested,  I'm  sure,"  Mr.  Watson  murmured. 


THE  COMING  OF  THE  "KAISER  WILHELM"      343 

"My  real  name,"  Mr.  Sabin  said,  turning  a  little  as 
though  to  face  his  companion,  "is  Victor  Due  de  Sous- 
pennier.  It  suits  me  at  present  to  travel  under  the  name 
by  which  I  was  known  in  England  and  by  which  you  are 
in  the  habit  of  addressing  me.  Mr.  Watson,  I'm  leaving 
England  because  a  certain  scheme  of  mine,  which,  if  suc- 
cessful, would  have  revolutionised  the  whole  face  of  Europe, 
has  by  a  most  unfortunate  chance  become  a  failure.  I  have 
incurred  thereby  the  resentment,  perhaps  I  should  say  the  just 
resentment,  of  a  great  nation.  I  am  on  my  way  to  the 
country  where  I  concluded  I  should  be  safest  against  those 
means  of,  shall  I  say,  retribution,  or  vengeance,  which  will 
assuredly  be  used  against  me.  Now  what  I  want  to  say  to 
you,  Mr.  Watson,  is  this — I  am  a  rich  man,  and  I  value  my 
life  at  a  great  deal  of  money.  I  wonder  if  by  any  chance 
you  understand  me." 

Mr.  Watson  smiled. 

"  I'm  curious  to  know,"  he  said  softly,  "  at  what  price  you 
value  yourself." 

"  My  account  in  New  York,"  Mr.  Sabin  said  quietly,  "  is, 
I  believe,  something  like  ten  thousand  pounds." 

"Fifty  thousand  dollars,"  Mr.  Watson  remarked,  "is 
a  nice  little  sum  for  one,  but  an  awkward  amount  to 
divide." 

Mr.  Sabin  lit  a  cigarette  and  breathed  more  freely.  He 
began  to  see  his  way. 

"I  forgot  the  lady,"  he  murmured.  "The  expense  of 
cabling  is  not  great.  For  the  sake  of  argument,  let  us  say 
twenty  thousand." 

Mr.  Watson  rose. 

"So  far  as  I'm  concerned,"  he  said,  "it  is  a  satisfactory 
sum.  Forgive  me  if  I  leave  you  for  a  few  minutes,  I  must 
have  a  little  talk  with  Mrs.  Watson." 

Mr.  Sabin  nodded. 

"  We  will  have  a  cigar  together  after  lunch,"  he  said.     "I 


344  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

must  have  my  morning  game  of  shuffleboard  with  the 
captain." 

Mr.  Watson  went  below,  and  Mr.  Sabin  played  shuffle- 
board  with  his  usual  deadly  skill. 

A  slight  mist  had  settled  around  them  by  the  time  the 
game  was  over,  and  the  fog  horn  was  blowing,  the  captain 
went  on  the  bridge,  and  the  engines  were  checked  to  half 
speed. 

Mr.  Sabin  leaned  over  the  side  of  the  vessel,  and  gazed 
thoughtfully  into  the  dense  white  vapour. 

"  I  think,"  he  said  softly  to  himself,  "that  after  all  I'm  safe." 

There  was  perfect  silence  on  the  ship.  Even  the  luncheon 
gong  had  not  sounded,  the  passengers  having  been  sum- 
moned in  a  whisper  by  the  deck  steward.  The  fog  seemed 
to  be  getting  denser  and  the  sea  was  like  glass.  Suddenly 
there  was  a  little  commotion  aft,  and  the  captain  leaning 
forward  shouted  some  brief  orders.  The  fog-horn  emitted 
a  series  of  spasmodic  and  hideous  shrills,  and  beyond  a 
slight  drifting  the  steamer  was  almost  motionless. 

Mr.  Sabin  understood  at  once  that  somewhere,  it  might 
be  close  at  hand,  or  it  might  be  a  mile  away,  the  presence 
of  another  steamer  had  been  detected. 

The  same  almost  ghostlike  stillness  continued,  orders 
were  passed  backward  and  forward  in  whispers.  The  men 
walked  backward  and  forward  on  tiptoe.  And  then  sud- 
denly, without  any  warning,  they  passed  out  into  the  clear 
air,  the  mist  rolled  away,  the  sun  shone  down  upon  them 
again,  and  the  decks  dried  as  though  by  magic.  Cheerful 
voices  broke  in  upon  the  chill  and  unnatural  silence.  The 
machinery  recommenced  to  throb,  and  the  passengers  who 
had  finished  lunch  went  upon  deck.  Every  one  was  at- 
tracted at  once  by  the  sight  of  a  large  white  steamer  about 
a  mile  on  the  starboard  side. 

Mr.  Watson  joined  the  captain,  who  was  examining  her 
through  his  glass. 


THE  COMING  OF  THE  "KAISER  WILHELM"      345 

"  Man-of-war,  isn't  she  ?  "  he  inquired. 

The  captain  nodded. 

"  Not  much  doubt  about  that,"  he  answered ;  "  look  at 
her  guns.  The  odd  part  of  it  is,  too,  she  is  flying  no  flag. 
We  shall  know  who  she  is  in  a  minute  or  two,  though." 

Mr.  Sabin  descended  the  steps  on  his  way  to  a  late 
luncheon.  As  he  turned  the  corner  he  came  face  to  face 
with  Mr.  Watson,  whose  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  coming 
steamer  with  a  very  curious  expression. 

"Man-of-war,"  Mr.  Sabin  remarked.  "You  look  as 
though  you  had  seen  her  before." 

Mr.  Watson  laughed  harshly. 

"  I  should  like  to  see  her,"  he  remarked,  "  at  the  bottom 
of  the  sea." 

Mr.  Sabin  looked  at  him  in  surprise. 

"  You  know  her,  then  ?  "  he  remarked. 

"  I  know  her,"  Mr.  Watson  answered,  "  too  well.  She  is 
the  Kaiser  Wilhelm,  and  she  is  going  to  rob  me  of  twenty 
thousand  pounds." 


CHAPTER  XLIV 

THE  GERMANS  ARE  ANNOYED 

MR.  SABIN  ate  his  luncheon  with  unimpaired  appetite  and 
with  his  usual  care  that  everything  of  which  he  partook 
should  be  so  far  as  possible  of  the  best.  The  close  presence 
of  the  German  man-of-war  did  not  greatly  alarm  him.  He 
had  some  knowledge  of  the  laws  and  courtesies  of  maritime 
life,  and  he  could  not  conceive  by  what  means  short  of 
actual  force  he  could  be  inveigled  on  board  of  her.  Mr. 
Watson's  last  words  had  been  a  little  disquieting,  but  he 
probably  held  an  exaggerated  opinion  as  to  the  powers 
possessed  by  his  employers.  Mr.  Sabin  had  been  in  many 
tighter  places  than  this,  and  he  had  sufficient  belief  in  the 
country  of  his  recent  adoption  to  congratulate  himself  that 
it  was  an  English  boat  on  which  he  was  a  passenger.  He 
proceeded  to  make  himself  agreeable  to  Mrs.  Watson,  who, 
in  a  charming  costume  of  blue  and  white,  and  a  fascinating 
little  hat,  had  just  come  on  to  luncheon. 

"  I  have  been  talking,"  he  remarked,  after  a  brief  pause  in 
their  conversation,  "to  your  husband  this  morning." 

She  looked  up  at  him  with  a  meaning  smile  upon  her 
face. 

"So  he  has  been   telling  me." 

"  I  hope,"  Mr.  Sabin  continued  gently,  "  that  your 
advice  to  him — I  take  it  for  granted  that  he  comes  to 
you  for  advice — was  in  my  favour." 

346 


THE  GERMANS  ARE  ANNOYED  347 

"  It  was  very  much  in  your  favour,"  she  answered,  leaning 
across  towards  him.  "  I  think  that  you  knew  it  would  be." 

"  I  hoped  at  least- 
Mr.  Sabin  broke  off  suddenly  in  the  midst  of  his  sentence, 
and  turning  round  looked  out  of  the  open  port-hole.  Mrs. 
Watson  had  dropped  her  knife  and  fork  and  was  holding  her 
hands  to  her  ears.  The  saloon  itself  seemed  to  be  shaken 
by  the  booming  of  a  gun  fired  at  close  quarters. 

"What  is  it?  "  she  exclaimed,  looking  across  at  him  with 
frightened  eyes.  "  What  can  have  happened !  England  is 
not  at  war  with  anybody,  is  she  ?  " 

Mr.  Sabin  looked  up  with  a  quiet  smile  from  the  salad 
which  he  was  mixing. 

"  It  is  simply  a  signal  from  another  ship,"  he  answered. 
"  She  wants  us  to  stop." 

"  What  ship  ?  Do  you  know  anything  about  it  ?  Do  you 
know  what  they  want  ?  " 

"  Not  exactly,"  Mr.  Sabin  said.  "  At  the  same  time 
I  have  some  idea.  The  ship  who  fired  that  signal  is  a 
German  man-of-war,  and  you  see  we  are  stopping." 

Of  the  two  Mrs.  Watson  was  certainly  the  most  nervous. 
Her  fingers  shook  so  that  the  wine  in  her  glass  was  spilt. 
She  set  her  glass  down  and  looked  across  at  her  companion. 

"  They  will  take  you  away,"  she  murmured. 

"  I  think  not,"  Mr.  Sabin  answered.  "  I  am  inclined 
to  think  that  I  am  perfectly  safe.  Will  you  try  some  of 
my  salad?" 

A  look  of  admiration  flashed  for  a  moment  across  her  face. 

"  You  are  a  wonderful  man,"  she  said  softly.  "  No  salad, 
thanks  !  I  am  too  nervous  to  eat.  Let  us  go  on  deck ! " 

Mr.  Sabin  rose,  and  carefully  selected  a  cigarette. 

"  I  can  assure  you,"  he  said,  "  that  they  are  powerless  to 
do  anything  except  attempt  to  frighten  Captain  Ackinson. 
Of  course  they  might  succeed  in  that,  but  I  don't  think  it  is 
likely.  Let  us  go  and  hear  what  he  has  to  say." 


348  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SAB1N 

Captain  Ackinson  was  standing  alone  on  the  deck,  watch, 
ing  the  man-of-war's  boat  which  was  being  rapidly  pulled 
towards  the  Calipha.  He  was  obviously  in  a  bad  temper. 
There  was  a  black  frown  upon  his  forehead  which  did  not 
altogether  disappear  when  he  turned  his  head  and  saw  them 
approaching. 

"  Are  we  arrested,  Captain  ?  "  Mr.  Sabin  asked.  "  Why 
couldn't  they  signal  what  they  wanted  ?  " 

"  Because  they're  blistering  idiots,"  Captain  Ackinson 
answered.  "They  blither  me  to  stop,  and  I  signalled  back 
to  ask  their  reason,  and  I'm  dashed  if  they  didn't  put  a  shot 
across  my  bows.  As  if  I  hadn't  lost  enough  time  already 
without  fooling." 

"Thanks  to  us,  I  am  afraid,  Captain,"  Mrs.  Watson  put  in. 

"  Well,  I'm  not  regretting  that,  Mrs.  Watson,"  the  captain 
answered  gallantly.  "  We  got  something  for  stopping  there, 
but  we  shall  get  nothing  decent  from  these  confounded 
Germans,  I  am  very  sure.  By  the  bye,  can  you  speak  their 
lingo,  Mr.  Sabin?" 

"Yes,"  Mr.  Sabin  answered,  "I  can  speak  German.  Can 
I  be  of  any  assistance  to  you  ?  " 

"You  might  stay  with  me  if  you  will,"  Captain  Ackinson 
answered,  "  in  case  they  don't  speak  English." 

Mr.  Sabin  remained  by  the  captain's  side,  standing  with 
his  hands  behind  him.  Mrs.  Watson  leaned  over  the  rail 
close  at  hand,  watching  the  approaching  boat,  and  exchang- 
ing remarks  with  the  doctor.  In  a  few  minutes  the  boat  was 
alongside,  and  an  officer  in  the  uniform  of  the  German  Navy 
rose  and  made  a  stiff  salute. 

"  Are  you  the  captain  ?  "  he  inquired,  in  stiff  but  correct 
English. 

The  captain  returned  his  salute. 

"I  am  Captain  Ackinson,  Cunard  ss.  Calipha"  he 
answered.  "  What  do  you  want  with  me  ?  " 

"I  am  Captain  Von  Dronestein,  in   command  of  the 


THE  GERMANS  ARE  ANNOYED  349 

Kaiser  Wilhelm,  German  Navy,"  was  the  reply.  "  I  want  a 
word  or  two  with  you  in  private,  Captain  Ackinson.  Can  I 
come  on  board  ?  " 

Captain  Ackinson's  reply  was  not  gushing.  He  gave  the 
necessary  orders,  however,  and  in  a  few  moments  Captain 
Von  Dronestein,  and  a  thin,  dark  man  in  the  dress  of  a 
civilian,  clambered  to  the  deck.  They  looked  at  Mr.  Sabin, 
standing  by  the  captain's  side,  and  exchanged  glances  of 
intelligence. 

"If  you  will  kindly  permit  us,  Captain,"  the  newcomer 
said,  "  we  should  like  to  speak  with  you  in  private.  The 
matter  is  one  of  great  importance." 

Mr.  Sabin  discreetly  retired.  The  captain  turned  on  his 
heel  and  led  the  way  to  his  cabin.  He  pointed  briefly  to 
the  lounge  against  the  wall  and  remained  himself  standing. 

"  Now,  gentlemen,  if  you  please,"  he  said  briskly,  "  to 
business.  You  have  stopped  a  mail  steamer  in  mid  ocean 
by  force,  so  I  presume  you  have  something  of  importance  to 
say.  Please  say  it  and  let  me  go  on.  I  am  behind  time 
now." 

The  German  held  up  his  hands.  "  We  have  stopped 
you,"  he  said,  "  it  is  true,  but  not  by  force.  No  !  No  ! " 

"  I  don't  know  what  else  you  call  it  when  you  show  me 
a  bounding  thirty  guns  and  put  a  shot  across  my  bows." 

"  It  was  a  blank  charge,"  the  German  began,  but  Captain 
Ackinson  interrupted  him. 

"  It  was  nothing  of  the  sort !  "  he  declared  bluntly.  "  I 
was  on  deck  and  I  saw  the  charge  strike  the  water." 

"  It  was  then  contrary  to  my  orders,"  Captain  Dronestein 
declared,  "and  in  any  case  it  was  not  intended  for  intimida- 
tion." 

"  Never  mind  what  it  was  intended  for.  I  have  my  own 
opinion  about  that,"  Captain  Ackinson  remarked  impatiently. 
"Proceed  if  you  please  ! " 

"  In  the  first  place  permit  me  to  introduce  the  Baron  Von 


350  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

Graisheim,  who  is  attached  to  the  Ministry  for  Foreign 
Affairs  at  Berlin." 

Captain  Ackinson's  acknowledgment  of  the  introduction 
was  barely  civil.  The  German  continued — 

"I  am  afraid  you  will  not  consider  my  errand  here 
a  particularly  pleasant  one,  Herr  Captain.  I  have  a  war- 
rant here  for  the  arrest  of  one  of  your  passengers,  whom 
I  have  to  ask  you  to  hand  over  to  me." 

"  A  what ! "  Captain  Ackinson  exclaimed,  with  a  spot 
of  deep  colour  stealing  through  the  tan  of  his  cheeks. 

"A  warrant,"  Dronestein  continued,  drawing  an  imposing 
looking  document  from  his  breast  pocket.  "  If  you  will 
examine  it  you  will  perceive  that  it  is  in  perfect  order.  It 
bears,  in  fact,"  he  continued,  pointing  with  reverential  fore- 
finger to  a  signature  near  the  bottom  of  the  document,  "  the 
seal  of  his  most  august  Majesty,  the  Emperor  of  Germany." 

Captain  Ackinson  glanced  at  the  document  with  imper- 
turbable face. 

"  What  is  the  name  of  the  gentleman  to  whom  all  this 
refers  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  The  Due  de  Souspennier ! " 

"  The  name,"  Captain  Ackinson  remarked,  "  is  not  upon 
my  passengers'  list." 

"  He  is  travelling  under  the  alias  of  '  Mr.  Sabin,' "  Baron 
Von  Graisheim  interjected. 

"And  do  you  expect  me,"  Captain  Ackinson  remarked, 
"to  hand  over  the  person  in  question  to  you  on  the 
authority  of  that  document?" 

"  Certainly  !  "  the  two  men  exclaimed  with  one  voice. 

"Then  I  am  very  sorry  indeed,"  Captain  Ackinson 
declared,  "  that  you  should  have  had  the  temerity  to  stop 
my  ship,  and  detain  me  here  on  such  a  fool's  errand.  We 
are  on  the  high  seas  and  under  the  English  flag.  The 
document  you  have  just  shown  me  impeaching  the  Due  de 
Souspennier  for  '  lese  majestic '  and  high  treason,  and  all  the 


THE  GERMANS  ARE  ANNOYED  351 

rest  of  it,  is  not  worth  the  paper  it  is  written  on  here,  nor,  I 
should  think  in  America.  I  must  ask  you  to  leave  my  ship 
at  once,  gentlemen,  and  I  can  promise  you  that  my  em- 
ployers, the  Cunard  ss.  Company,  will  bring  a  claim  against 
your  Government  for  this  unwarrantable  detention." 

"You  must,  if  you  please,  be  reasonable,"  Captain 
Dronestein  said.  "We  have  force  behind  us,  and  we 
are  determined  to  rescue  this  man  at  all  costs." 

Captain  Ackinson  laughed  scornfully. 

"  I  shall  be  interested  to  see  what  measures  of  force  you 
will  employ,"  he  remarked.  "  You  may  have  a  tidy  bill  to 
pay  as  it  is,  for  that  shot  you  put  across  my  bows.  If  you 
try  another  it  may  cost  you  the  Kaiser  Wilhelm  and  the 
whole  of  the  German  Navy.  Now,  if  you  please,  I've  no 
more  time  to  waste." 

Captain  Ackinson  moved  towards  the  door.  Dronestein 
laid  his  hand  upon  his  arm. 

"  Captain  Ackinson,"  he  said,  "  do  not  be  rash.  If 
I  have  seemed  too  peremptory  in  this  matter,  remember 
that  Germany  as  my  fatherland  is  as  dear  to  me  as  England 
to  you,  and  this  man  whose  arrest  I  am  commissioned 
to  effect  has  earned  for  himself  the  deep  enmity  of  all 
patriots.  Listen  to  me,  I  beg.  You  run  not  one  shadow  of 
risk  in  delivering  this  man  up  to  my  custody.  He  has 
no  country  with  whom  you  might  become  embroiled.  He 
is  a  French  Royalist,  who  has  cast  himself  adrift  altogether 
from  his  country,  and  is  indeed  her  enemy.  Apart  from 
that,  his  detention,  trial  and  sentence,  would  be  before 
a  secret  court.  He  would  simply  disappear.  As  for  you, 
you  need  not  fear  but  that  your  services  will  be  amply 
recognised.  Make  your  claims  now  for  this  detention  of 
your  steamer ;  fix  it  if  you  will  at  five  or  even  ten  thousand 
pounds,  and  I  will  satisfy  it  on  the  spot  by  a  draft  on  the 
Imperial  Exchequer.  The  man  can  be  nothing  to  you. 
Make  a  great  country  your  debtor.  You  will  never  regret  it" 


35«  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

Captain  Ackinson  shook  his  arm  free  from  the  other's 
grasp,  and  strode  out  on  to  the  deck. 

"Kaiser  Wilhelm  boat  alongside,"  he  shouted,  blowing 
his  whistle.  "  Smith,  have  these  gentlemen  lowered  at  once, 
and  pass  the  word  to  the  engineer's  room,  full  speed  ahead." 

He  turned  to  the  two  men,  who  had  followed  him  out. 

"You  had  better  get  off  my  ship  before  I  lose  my 
temper,"  he  said  bluntly.  "But  rest  assured  that  I  shall 
report  this  attempt  at  intimidation  and  bribery  to  my 
employers,  and  they  will  without  doubt  lay  the  matter 
before  the  Government." 

"  But  Captain  Ackinson " 

"  Not  another  word,  sir." 

"  My  dear- 
Captain  Ackinson  turned  his  back  upon  the  two  men,  and 
with  a  stiff,  military  salute  turned  towards  the  bridge.  Al- 
ready the  machinery  was  commencing  to  throb.  Mr. 
Watson,  who  was  hovering  near,  came  up  and  helped 
them  to  descend.  A  few  apparently  casual  remarks  passed 
between  the  three  men.  From  a  little  lower  down  Mr. 
Sabin  and  Mrs.  Watson  leaned  over  the  rail  and  watched 
the  visitors  lowered  into  their  boat. 

"  That  was  rather  a  foolish  attempt,"  he  remarked  lightly ; 
"nevertheless  they  seem  disappointed." 

She  looked  after  them  pensively. 

"  I  wish  I  knew  what  they  said  to — my  husband,"  she 
murmured. 

"  Orders  for  my  assassination,  very  likely,"  he  remarked 
lightly.  "  Did  you  see  your  husband's  face  when  he  passed 
us?" 

She  nodded,  and  looked  behind.  Mr.  Watson  had 
entered  the  smoke-room.  She  drew  a  little  nearer  to 
Mr.  Sabin  and  dropped  her  voice  almost  to  a  whisper. 

"What  you  have  said  in  jest  is  most  likely  the  truth. 
Be  very  careful!" 


CHAPTER  XLV 

MR.    SABIN   IN   DANGER 

MR.  SABIN  found  the  captain  by  no  means  inclined  to 
talk  about  the  visit  which  they  had  just  received.  He  was 
still  hurt  and  ruffled  at  the  propositions  which  had  been 
made  to  him,  and  annoyed  at  the  various  delays  which 
seemed  conspiring  to  prevent  him  from  making  a  decent 
passage. 

"  I  have  been  most  confoundedly  insulted  by  those  d 

Germans,"  he  said  to  Mr.  Sabin,  meeting  him  a  little  later 
in  the  gangway.  "  I  don't  know  exactly  what  your  position 
may  be,  but  you  will  have  to  be  on  your  guard.  They  have 
gone  on  to  New  York,  and  I  suppose  they  will  try  and  get 
their  warrant  endorsed  there  before  we  land." 

"  They  have  a  warrant,  then  ?  "  Mr.  Sabin  remarked. 

"  They  showed  me  something  of  the  sort,"  the  captain 
answered  scornfully.  "And  it  is  signed  by  the  Kaiser. 
But,  of  course,  here  it  isn't  worth  the  paper  it  is  written  on, 
and  America  would  never  give  you  up  without  a  special 
extradition  treaty." 

Mr.  Sabin  smiled.  He  had  calculated  all  the  chances 
nicely,  and  a  volume  of  international  law  was  lying  at  that 
moment  in  his  state-room  face  downwards. 

"  I  think,"  he  said,  "  that  I  am  quite  safe  from  arrest, 
but  at  the  same  time,  Captain,  I  am  very  sorry  to  be  such  a 
troublesome  passenger  to  you." 

33  SS3 


354  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

The  captain  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  Oh,  it  is  not 
your  fault,"  he  said ;  "  but  I  have  made  up  my  mind  about 
one  thing.  I  am  not  going  to  stop  my  ship  this  side  of 
Boston  Harbour  for  anything  afloat.  We  have  lost  half  a 
day  already." 

"If  the  Cunard  Company  will  send  me  the  extra  coal 
bill,"  Mr.  Sabin  said,  "  I  will  pay  it  cheerfully,  for  I 
am  afraid  that  both  stoppages  have  been  on  my  ac- 
count." 

"  Bosh  ! "  The  Captain,  who  was  moving  away,  stopped 
short.  "  You  had  nothing  to  do  with  these  New  Yorkers 
and  their  broken-down  yacht." 

Mr.  Sabin  finished  lighting  a  cigarette  which  he  had 
taken  from  his  case,  and,  passing  his  arm  through  the 
captain's,  drew  him  a  little  further  away  from  the  gang- 
way. 

"  I'm  afraid  I  had,"  he  said.  "  As  a  matter  of  fact  they 
are  not  New  Yorkers,  and  they  are  not  husband  and  wife. 
They  are  simply  agents  in  the  pay  of  the  German  secret 
police." 

"  What,  spies  !  "  the  captain  exclaimed. 

Mr.  Sabin  nodded. 

"  Exactly  ! " 

The  captain  was  still  incredulous.  "  Do  you  mean  to 
tell  me,"  he  exclaimed,  "  that  charming  little  woman  is  not 
an  American  at  all  ? — that  she  is  a  fraud  ?  " 

"  There  isn't  a  shadow  of  a  doubt  about  it,"  Mr.  Sabin 
replied.  "  They  have  both  tacitly  admitted  it.  As  a 
matter  of  fact  I  am  in  treaty  now  to  buy  them  over.  They 
were  on  the  point  of  accepting  my  terms  when  these  fellows 
boarded  us.  Whether  they  will  do  so  now  I  cannot  tell. 
I  saw  that  fellow  Graisheim  talking  to  the  man  just  before 
they  left  the  vessel." 

"You  are  safe  while  you  are  on  my  ship,  Mr.  Sabin," 
the  captain  said  firmly.  "I  shall  watch  that  fellow 


MR.  SABIN  IN  DANGER  355 

Watson  closely,  and  if  he  gives  me  the  least  chance,  I 
will  have  him  put  in  irons.  Confound  the  man  and  his 
plausible " 

They  were  interrupted  by  the  deck  steward,  who  came 
with  a  message  from  Mrs.  Watson.  She  was  making  tea 
on  deck — might  she  have  the  loan  of  the  captain's  table, 
and  would  they  come  ? 

The  captain  gave  the  necessary  assent,  but  was  on  the 
point  of  declining  the  invitation.  "  I  don't  want  to  go  near 
the  people,"  he  said. 

"  On  the  other  hand,"  Mr.  Sabin  objected,  "  I  do  not 
want  them  to  think,  at  present  at  any  rate,  that  I  have  told 
you  who  they  are.  You  had  better  come." 

They  crossed  the  deck  to  a  sunny  little  corner  behind 
one  of  the  boats,  where  Mrs.  Watson  had  just  completed 
her  preparation  for  tea. 

She  greeted  them  gaily  and  chatted  to  them  while  they 
waited  for  the  kettle  to  boil,  but  to  Mr.  Sabin's  observant 
eyes  there  was  a  remarkable  change  in  her.  Her  laughter 
was  forced  and  she  was  very  pale. 

Several  times  Mr.  Sabin  caught  her  watching  him  in  an 
odd  way  as  though  she  desired  to  attract  his  attention,  but 
Mr.  Watson,  who  for  once  had  seemed  to  desert  the  smoking- 
room,  remained  by  her  side  like  a  shadow.  Mr.  Sabin  felt 
that  his  presence  was  ominous.  The  tea  was  made  and 
handed  round. 

Mr.  Watson  sent  away  the  deck  steward,  who  was  prepar- 
ing to  wait  upon  them,  and  did  the  honours  himself.  He 
passed  the  sugar  to  the  captain  and  stood  before  Mr.  Sabin 
with  the  sugar-tongs  in  his  hand. 

"  Sugar  ?  "  he  inquired,  holding  out  a  lump. 

Mr.  Sabin  took  sugar,  and  was  on  the  point  of  holding 
out  his  cup.  Just  then  he  chanced  to  glance  across  to 
Mrs.  Watson.  Her  eyes  were  dilated  and  she  seemed  to 
be  on  the  point  of  springing  from  her  chair.  Meeting  his 


356  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

glance  she  shook  her  head,  and  then  bent  over  her  hot 
water  apparatus. 

"  No  sugar,  thanks,"  Mr.  Sabin  answered.  "  This  tea 
looks  too  good  to  spoil  by  any  additions.  One  of  the  best 
things  I  learned  in  Asia  was  to  take  my  tea  properly.  Help 
yourself,  Mr.  Watson." 

Mr.  Watson  rather  clumsily  dropped  the  piece  of  sugar 
which  he  had  been  holding  out  to  Mr.  Sabin,  and  the  ship 
giving  a  slight  lurch  just  at  that  moment,  it  rolled  down  the 
deck  and  apparently  into  the  sea.  With  a  little  remark  as 
to  his  clumsiness  he  resumed  his  seat. 

Mr.  Sabin  looked  into  his  tea  and  across  to  Mrs.  Watson. 
The  slightest  of  nods  was  sufficient  for  him.  He  drank  it 
off  and  asked  for  some  more. 

The  tea  party  on  the  whole  was  scarcely  a  success.  The 
Captain  was  altogether  upset  and  quite  indisposed  to  be 
amiable  towards  people  who  had  made  a  dupe  of  him. 
Mrs.  Watson  seemed  to  be  suffering  from  a  state  of  nervous 
excitement,  and  her  husband  was  glum  and  silent.  Mr. 
Sabin  alone  appeared  to  be  in  good  spirits,  and  he  talked 
continually  with  his  customary  ease  and  polish. 

The  Captain  did  not  stay  very  long,  and  upon  his  depar- 
ture Mr.  Sabin  also  rose. 

"  Am  I  to  have  the  pleasure  of  taking  you  for  a  little 
walk,  Mrs.  Watson  ?  "  he  asked. 

She  looked  doubtfully  at  the  tall,  glum  figure  by  her  side, 
and  her  face  was  almost  haggard. 

"  I'm  afraid — I  think — I  think — Mr.  Watson  has  just 
asked  me  to  walk  with  him,"  she  said,  lamely ;  "  we  must 
have  our  stroll  later  on." 

"  I  shall  be  ready  and  delighted  at  any  time,"  Mr.  Sabin 
answered  with  a  bow. 

"We  are  going  to  have  a  moon  to-night;  perhaps  you 
may  be  tempted  to  walk  after  dinner." 

He  ignored  the  evident  restraint  of  both  the  man  and 


MR.  SABIN  IN  DANGER  357 

the  woman  and  strolled  away.  Having  nothing  in  particular 
to  do  he  went  into  his  deck  cabin  to  dress  a  little  earlier 
than  usual,  and  when  he  had  emerged  the  dinner-gong  had 
not  yet  sounded. 

The  deck  was  quite  deserted,  and  lighting  a  cigarette 
d'appetit,  he  strolled  past  the  scene  of  their  tea-party.  A 
dark  object  under  the  boat  attracted  his  attention.  He 
stooped  down  and  looked  at  it.  Thomas,  the  ship's  cat, 
was  lying  there  stiff  and  stark,  and  by  the  side  of  his  out- 
stretched tongue  a  lump  of  sugar. 


CHAPTER   XLVI 

MR.    WATSON    IS   ASTONISHED 

AT  dinner-time  Mr.  Sabin  was  the  most  silent  of  the  little 
quartette  who  occupied  the  head  of  the  table.  The  captain, 
who  had  discovered  that  notwithstanding  their  stoppage  they 
had  made  a  very  fair  day's  run,  and  had  just  noticed  a  favour- 
able change  in  the  wind,  was  in  a  better  humour,  and  on  the 
whole  was  disposed  to  feel  satisfied  with  himself  for  the  way 
he  had  repulsed  the  captain  of  the  Kaiser  Wilhelm.  He 
departed  from  his  usual  custom  so  far  as  to  drink  a  glass  of 
Mr.  Sabin's  champagne,  having  first  satisfied  himself  as  to 
the  absence  of  any  probability  of  fog.  Mr.  Watson,  too,  was 
making  an  effort  to  appear  amiable,  and  his  wife,  though  her 
colour  seemed  a  trifle  hectic  and  her  laughter  not  altogether 
natural,  contributed  her  share  to  the  conversation.  Mr. 
Sabin  alone  was  curiously  silent  and  distant.  Many  times 
he  had  escaped  death  by  what  seemed  almost  a  fluke;  more 
often  than  most  men  he  had  been  at  least  in  danger  of  losing 
it.  But  this  last  adventure  had  made  a  distinct  and  deep 
impression  upon  him.  He  had  not  seriously  believed  that 
the  man  Watson  was  prepared  to  go  to  such  lengths ;  he 
recognised  for  the  first  time  his  extreme  danger.  Then  as 
regards  the  woman  he  was  genuinely  puzzled.  He  owed  her 
his  life,  he  could  not  doubt  it.  She  had  given  him  the  warning 
by  which  he  had  profited,  and  she  had  given  it  him  behind 

358 


MR.  WATSON  IS  ASTONISHED  359 

his  companion's  back.  He  was  strongly  inclined  to  believe 
in  her.  Still,  she  was  doubtless  in  fear  of  the  man.  Her 
whole  appearance  denoted  it.  She  was  still,  without  doubt, 
his  tool,  willing  or  unwilling. 

They  lingered  longer  than  usual  over  their  dessert.  It 
was  noticeable  that  throughout  their  conversation  all  mention 
of  the  events  of  the  day  was  excluded.  A  casual  remark  of 
Mr.  Watson's  the  captain  had  ignored.  There  was  an  obvious 
inclination  to  avoid  the  subject.  The  captain  was  on  the 
qui  vive  all  the  time,  and  he  promptly  quashed  any  embar- 
rassing remark.  So  far  as  Mrs.  Watson  was  concerned  there 
was  certainly  no  fear  of  her  exhibiting  any  curiosity.  It  was 
hard  to  believe  that  she  was  the  same  woman  who  had  virtu- 
ally taken  the  conversation  into  her  own  hands  on  the 
previous  evening,  and  had  talked  to  them  so  well  and  so 
brightly.  She  sat  there,  white  and  cowed,  looking  a  great 
deal  at  Mr.  Sabin  with  sad,  far-away  eyes,  and  seldom  origi- 
nating a  remark.  Mr.  Watson,  on  the  contrary,  talked 
incessantly,  in  marked  contrast  to  his  previous  silence ;  he 
drank  no  wine,  but  seemed  in  the  best  of  spirits.  Only 
once  did  he  appear  at  a  loss,  and  that  was  when  the 
captain,  helping  himself  to  some  nuts,  turned  towards  Mr. 
Sabin  and  asked  a  question — 

"  I  wonder,  Mr.  Sabin,  whether  you  ever  heard  of  an 
Indian  nut  called,  I  believe,  the  Fakella  ?  They  say  that 
an  oil  distilled  from  its  kernel  is  the  most  deadly  poison  in 
the  world." 

"I  have  both  heard  of  it  and  seen  it,"  Mr.  Sabin 
answered.  "  In  fact,  I  may  say,  that  I  have  tasted  it — on 
the  tip  of  my  finger." 

"And  yet,"  the  captain  remarked,  laughing,  "you  are 
alive." 

"  And  yet  I  am  alive,"  Mr.  Sabin  echoed.  "  But  there  is 
nothing  very  wonderful  in  that.  I  am  poison-proof." 

Mr.  Watson  was  in  the  act  ot  raising  a  hastily  filled  glass 


3<5o  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

to  his  lips  when  his  eyes  met  Mr.  Sabin's.  He  set  it  down 
hurriedly,  white  to  the  lips.  He  knew,  then  !  Surely  there 
must  be  something  supernatural  about  the  man.  A  convic- 
tion of  his  own  absolute  impotence  suddenly  laid  hold  of 
him.  He  was  completely  shaken.  Of  what  use  were  the 
ordinary  weapons  of  his  kind  against  an  antagonist  such  as 
this  ?  He  knew  nothing  of  the  silent  evidence  against  him 
on  deck.  He  could  only  attribute  Mr.  Sabin's  foreknowledge 
of  what  had  been  planned  against  him  to  the  miraculous. 
He  stumbled  to  his  feet,  and  muttering  something  about 
some  cigars,  left  his  place.  Mrs.  Watson  rose  almost 
immediately  afterwards.  As  she  turned  to  walk  down  the 
saloon  she  dropped  her  handkerchief.  Mr.  Sabin,  who  had 
risen  while  she  passed  out,  stooped  down  and  picked  it  up. 
She  took  it  with  a  smile  of  thanks  and  whispered  in  his 
ear — 

"Come  on  deck  with  me  quickly;  I  want  to  speak  to 
you." 

He  obeyed,  turning  round  and  making  some  mute  sign 
to  the  captain.  She  walked  swiftly  up  the  stairs  after  a 
frightened  glance  down  the  corridor  to  their  state-rooms. 
A  fresh  breeze  blew  in  their  faces  as  they  stepped  out  on 
deck,  and  Mr.  Sabin  glanced  at  her  bare  neck  and  arms. 

"You  will  be  cold,"  he  said.  "Let  me  fetch  you  a 
wrap." 

"  Don't  leave  me,"  she  exclaimed  quickly.  "  Walk  to  the 
side  of  the  steamer.  Don't  look  behind." 

Mr.  Sabin  obeyed.  Directly  she  was  sure  that  they  were 
really  beyond  earshot  of  any  one  she  laid  her  hand  upon 
his  arm. 

"  I  am  going  to  ask  you  a  strange  question,"  she  said. 
"  Don't  stop  to  think  what  it  means,  but  answer  me  at 
once.  Where  are  you  going  to  sleep  to-night — in  your 
state-room  or  in  the  deck  cabin  ?  " 

He  started  a  little,  but  answered  without  hesitation — 


MR.  WATSON  IS  ASTONISHED  361 

"  In  my  deck  cabin." 

"Then  don't,"  she  exclaimed  quickly.  "Say  that  you 
are  going  to  if  you  are  asked,  mind  that.  Sit  up  on  deck, 
out  of  sight,  all  night,  stay  with  the  captain — anything — but 
don't  sleep  there,  and  whatever  you  may  see  don't  be  sur- 
prised, and  please  don't  think  too  badly  of  me." 

He  was  surprised  to  see  that  her  cheeks  were  burning 
and  her  eyes  were  wet.  He  laid  his  hand  tenderly  upon 
her  arm. 

"  I  will  promise  that  at  any  rate,"  he  said. 

"  And  you  will  remember  what  I  have  told  you  ?  " 

"  Most  certainly,"  he  promised.  "  Your  warnings  are  not 
things  to  be  disregarded." 

She  drew  a  quick  little  breath  and  looked  nervously  over 
her  shoulders. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  he  said  kindly,  "  that  you  are  not  well 
to-day.  Has  that  fellow  been  frightening  or  ill-using 
you?" 

Her  face  was  very  close  to  his,  and  he  fancied  that  he 
could  hear  her  teeth  chattering.  She  was  obviously 
terrified. 

"  We  must  not  be  talking  too  seriously,"  she  murmured. 
"  He  may  be  here  at  any  moment.  I  want  you  to  remem- 
ber that  there  is  a  price  set  upon  you  and  he  means  to  earn 
it.  He  would  have  killed  you  before,  but  he  wants  to  avoid 
detection.  You  had  better  tell  the  captain  everything. 
Remember,  you  must  be  on  the  watch  always." 

"  I  can  protect  myself  now  that  I  am  warned,"  he  said, 
reassuringly.  "  I  have  carried  my  life  in  my  hands  many  a 
time  before.  But  you  ?  " 

She  shivered. 

"  They  tell  me,"  she  whispered,  "  that  from  Boston  you 
can  take  a  train  right  across  the  Continent,  thousands  of 
miles.  I  am  going  to  take  the  very  first  one  that  starts 
when  I  land,  and  I  am  going  to  hide  somewhere  in  the 


362  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

furthest  corner  of  the  world  I  can  get  to.  To  live  in  such 
fear  would  drive  me  mad,  and  I  am  not  a  coward.  Let  us 
walk;  he  will  not  think  so  much  of  our  being  together 
then." 

"  I  am  going  to  send  for  a  wrap,"  he  said,  looking 
down  at  her  thin  dinner  dress ;  "  it  is  much  too  cold  for 
you  here  bareheaded.  We  will  send  the  steward  for  some- 
thing." 

They  turned  round  to  find  a  tall  form  at  their  elbows. 
Mr.  Watson's  voice,  thin  and  satirical,  broke  the  momentary 
silence. 

"  You  are  in  a  great  hurry  for  fresh  air,  Violet.  I  have 
brought  your  cape ;  allow  me  to  put  it  on." 

He  stooped  down  and  threw  the  wrap  over  her  shoulders. 
Then  he  drew  her  reluctant  fingers  through  his  arm. 

"  You  were  desiring  to  walk,"  he  said.  "  Very  well,  we 
will  walk  together." 

Mr.  Sabin  watched  them  disappear  and,  lighting  a  cigar, 
strolled  off  towards  the  captain's  room.  Many  miles  away 
now  he  could  still  see  the  green  light  of  the  German  man- 
of-war. 


CHAPTER   XLVII 

A  CHARMED   LIFE 

THE  night  was  still  enough,  but  piled-up  masses  of  black 
clouds  obscured  a  weakly  moon,  and  there  were  only  now 
and  then  uncertain  gleams  of  glimmering  light.  There 
was  no  fog,  nor  any  sign  of  any.  The  captain  slept  in  his 
room,  and  on  deck  the  steamer  was  utterly  deserted.  Only 
through  the  black  darkness  she  still  bounded  on,  her  fur- 
naces roaring,  and  the  black  trail  of  smoke  leaving  a  long 
clear  track  behind  her.  It  seemed  as  though  every  one 
were  sleeping  on  board  the  steamer  except  those  who  fed 
her  fires  below  and  the  grim,  silent  figure  who  stood  in  the 
wheelhouse. 

Mr.  Sabin,  who,  muffled  up  with  rugs,  was  reclining  in  a 
deck  chair,  drawn  up  in  the  shadow  of  the  long  boat,  was 
already  beginning  to  regret  that  he  had  attached  any  im- 
portance at  all  to  Mrs.  Watson's  warning.  It  wanted 
only  an  hour  or  so  of  dawn.  All  night  long  he  had  sat 
there  in  view  of  the  door  of  his  deck  cabin  and  shivered. 
To  sleep  had  been  impossible,  his  dozing  was  only  fitful 
and  unrestful.  His  hands  were  thrust  deep  down  into  the 
pockets  of  his  overcoat — the  revolver  had  long  ago  slipped 
from  his  cold  fingers.  More  than  once  he  had  made  up 
his  mind  to  abandon  his  watch,  to  enter  his  room,  and 
chance  what  might  happen.  And  then  suddenly  there 

361 


364  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

came  what  he  had  been  waiting  for  all  this  while — a  soft 
footfall  along  the  deck :  some  one  was  making  their  way 
now  from  the  gangway  to  the  door  of  his  cabin. 

The  frown  on  his  forehead  deepened  ;  he  leaned  stealthily 
forward  watching  and  listening  intently.  Surely  that  was 
the  rustling  of  a  silken  gown,  that  gleam  of  white  behind 
the  funnel  was  the  fluttering  of  a  woman's  skirt.  Suddenly 
he  saw  her  distinctly.  She  was  wearing  a  long  white  dressing- 
gown,  and  noiseless  slippers  of  some  kind.  Her  face  was 
very  pale  and  her  eyes  seemed  fixed  and  dilated.  Once, 
twice  she  looked  nervously  behind  her,  then  she  paused 
before  the  door  of  his  cabin,  hesitated  for  a  moment,  and 
finally  passed  over  the  threshold.  Mr.  Sabin,  who  had  been 
about  to  spring  forward,  paused.  After  all  perhaps  he  was 
safer  where  he  was. 

There  was  a  full  minute  during  which  nothing  happened. 
Mr.  Sabin,  who  had  now  thoroughly  regained  his  composure, 
lingered  in  the  shadow  of  the  boat  prepared  to  wait  upon 
the  course  of  events,  but  a  man's  footstep  this  time  fell 
softly  upon  the  deck.  Some  one  had  emerged  from  the 
gangway  and  was  crossing  towards  his  room.  Mr.  Sabin 
peered  cautiously  through  the  twilight.  It  was  Mr.  Watson, 
of  New  York,  partially  dressed,  with  a  revolver  flashing  in 
his  hand.  Then  Mr.  Sabin  perceived  the  full  wisdom  of 
having  remained  where  he  was. 

Under  the  shadow  of  the  boat  he  drew  a  little  nearer  to 
the  door  of  the  cabin.  There  was  absolute  silence  within. 
What  they  were  doing  he  could  not  imagine,  but  the  place 
was  in  absolute  darkness.  Thoroughly  awake  now  he 
crouched  within  a  few  feet  of  the  door  listening  intently. 
Once  he  fancied  that  he  could  hear  a  voice,  it  seemed  to 
him  that  a  hand  was  groping  along  the  wall  for  the  knob 
of  the  electric  light.  Then  the  door  was  softly  opened  and 
the  woman  came  out.  She  stood  for  a  moment  leaning  a 
little  forward,  listening  intently  ready  to  make  her  retreat 


"  It  was  Mr.  Watson  of  New  York." 


\_Page  364. 


A  CHARMED  LIFE  365 

immediately  she  was  assured  that  the  coast  was  clear  !  She 
was  a  little  pale,  but  in  a  stray  gleam  of  moonlight  Mr. 
Sabin  fancied  that  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  smile  upon  her 
parted  lips.  There  was  a  whisper  from  behind  her  shoulder; 
she  answered  in  a  German  monosyllable.  Then,  apparently 
satisfied  that  she  was  unobserved,  she  stepped  out,  and, 
flitting  round  the  funnel,  disappeared  down  the  gangway. 
Mr.  Sabin  made  no  attempt  to  stop  her  or  to  disclose  his 
presence.  His  fingers  had  closed  now  upon  his  revolver — 
he  was  waiting  for  the  man.  The  minutes  crept  on — 
nothing  happened.  Then  a  hand  softly  closed  the  window 
looking  out  upon  the  deck,  immediately  afterwards  the  door 
was  pushed  open  and  Mr.  Watson,  with  a  handkerchief  to 
his  mouth,  stepped  out. 

He  stood  perfectly  still  listening  for  a  moment.  Then 
he  was  on  the  point  of  stealing  away,  when  a  hand  fell 
suddenly  upon  his  shoulder.  He  was  face  to  face  with  Mr. 
Sabin. 

He  started  back  with  a  slight  but  vehement  guttural 
interjection.  His  hand  stole  down  towards  his  pocket,  but 
the  shining  argument  in  Mr.  Sabin's  hand  was  irresistible. 

"  Step  back  into  that  room,  Mr.  Watson;  I  want  to  speak 
to  you." 

He  hesitated.  Mr.  Sabin  reaching  across  him  opened 
the  door  of  the  cabin.  Immediately  they  were  assailed 
with  the  fumes  of  a  strange,  sickly  odour  !  Mr.  Sabin 
laughed  softly,  but  a  little  bitterly. 

"  A  very  old-fashioned  device,"  he  murmured.  "  I  gave 
you  credit  for  more  ingenuity,  my  friend.  Come,  I  have 
opened  the  window  and  the  door  you  see !  Let  us  step 
inside.  There  will  be  sufficient  fresh  air." 

Mr.  Watson  was  evidently  disinclined  to  make  the  effort. 
He  glanced  covertly  up  the  deck,  and  seemed  to  be  pre- 
paring himself  for  a  rush.  Again  that  little  argument  of 
steel  and  the  grim  look  on  Mr.  Sabin's  face  prevailed. 


366  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

They  both  crossed  the  threshold.  The  odour,  though 
powerful,  was  almost  nullified  by  the  rushing  of  the  salt 
wind  through  the  open  window  and  door  which  Mr.  Sabin 
had  fixed  open  with  a  catch.  Reaching  out  his  hand  he 
pulled  down  a  little  brass  hook — the  room  was  immediately 
lit  with  the  soft  glare  of  the  electric  light. 

Mr.  Sabin,  having  assured  himself  that  his  companion's 
revolver  was  safely  bestowed  in  his  hip  pocket  and  could 
not  be  reached  without  warning,  glanced  carefully  around 
his  cabin. 

He  looked  first  towards  the  bed  and  smiled.  His  little 
device,  then,  had  succeeded.  The  rug  which  he  had  rolled 
up  under  the  sheets  into  the  shape  of  a  human  form  was 
undisturbed.  In  the  absence  of  a  light  Mr.  Watson  had 
evidently  taken  for  granted  that  the  man  whom  he  had 
sought  to  destroy  was  really  in  the  room.  The  two  men 
suddenly  exchanged  glances,  and  Mr.  Sabin  smiled  at  the 
other's  look  of  dismay. 

"  It  was  not  like  you,"  he  said  gently ;  "  it  was  really 
very  clumsy  indeed  to  take  for  granted  my  presence  here. 
I  have  great  faith  in  you  and  your  methods,  my  friend, 
but  do  you  think  that  it  would  have  been  altogether  wise 
for  me  to  have  slept  here  alone  with  unfastened  door — 
under  the  circumstances  ?  " 

Mr.  Watson  admitted  his  error  with  a  gleam  in  his  dark 
eyes,  which  Mr.  Sabin  accepted  as  an  additional  warning. 

"  Your  little  device,"  he  continued,  raising  an  unstopped 
flask  from  the  table  by  the  side  of  the  bed,  is  otherwise 
excellent,  and  I  feel  that  I  owe  you  many  thanks  for 
arranging  a  death  that  should  be  painless.  You  might 
have  made  other  plans  which  would  have  been  not  only 
more  clumsy,  but  which  might  have  caused  me  a  consider- 
able amount  of  personal  inconvenience  and  discomfort. 
Your  arrangements,  I  see,  were  altogether  excellent.  You 
arranged  for  my — er — extermination  asleep  or  awake.  If 


A  CHARMED  LIFE  367 

awake  the  little  visit  which  your  charming  wife  had  just 
paid  here  was  to  have  provided  you  at  once  with  a  motive 
for  the  crime  and  a  distinctly  mitigating  circumstance. 
That  was  very  ingenious.  Pardon  my  lighting  a  cigarette, 
these  fumes  are  a  little  powerful.  Then  if  I  was  asleep  and 
had  not  been  awakened  by  the  time  you  arrived — well,  it 
was  to  be  a  drug !  Supposing,  my  dear  Mr.  Watson,  you 
do  me  the  favour  of  emptying  this  little  flask  into  the  sea. 

Mr.  Watson  obeyed  promptly.  There  were  several  points 
in  his  favour  to  be  gained  by  the  destruction  of  this  evidence 
of  his  unsuccessful  attempt.  As  he  crossed  the  deck 
holding  the  little  bottle  at  arm's  length  from  him  a  delicate 
white  vapour  could  be  distinctly  seen  rising  from  the  bottle 
and  vanishing  into  the  air.  There  was  a  little  hiss  like  the 
hiss  of  a  snake  as  it  touched  the  water,  and  a  spot  of  white 
froth  marked  the  place  where  it  sank. 

"  Much  too  strong,"  Mr.  Sabin  murmured.  "  A  sad 
waste  of  a  very  valuable  drug,  my  friend.  Now  will  you 
please  come  inside  with  me.  We  must  have  a  little  chat. 
But  first  kindly  stand  quite  still  for  one  moment.  There 
is  no  particular  reason  why  I  should  run  any  risk.  I  am 
going  to  take  that  revolver  from  your  pocket  and  throw  it 
overboard." 

Mr.  Watson's  first  instinct  was  evidently  one  of  resist- 
ance. Then  suddenly  he  felt  the  cold  muzzle  of  a  revolver 
upon  his  forehead. 

"  If  you  move,"  Mr.  Sabin  said  quietly,  "  you  are  a 
dead  man.  My  best  policy  would  be  to  kill  you;  I  am 
foolish  not  to  do  it.  But  I  hate  violence.  You  are  safe  if 
you  do  as  I  tell  you." 

Mr.  Watson  recognised  the  fact  that  his  companion  was 
in  earnest.  He  stood  quite  still  and  watched  his  revolver 
describe  a  semicircle  in  the  darkness  and  a  fall  with  a  little 
splash  in  the  water.  Then  he  followed  Mr.  Sabin  into  his 
cabin. 


CHAPTER  XLVIII 

THE   DOOMSCHEN 

"I  SUPPOSE,"  Mr.  Sabin  began,  closing  the  dcor  of  the 
cabin  behind  him,  "  that  I  may  take  it — this  episode — as 
an  indication  of  your  refusal  to  accept  the  proposals  I 
made  to  you?' 

Mr.  Watson  did  not  immediately  reply.  He  had  seated 
himself  on  the  corner  of  a  lounge  and  was  leaning  forward, 
his  head  resting  moodily  upon  his  hands.  His  sallow  face 
was  paler  even  than  usual,  and  his  expression  was  sullen. 
He  looked,  as  he  undoubtedly  was,  in  an  evil  humour  with 
himself  and  all  things. 

"  It  was  not  a  matter  of  choice  with  me,"  he  muttered. 
"  Look  out  of  your  window  there  and  you  will  see  that  even 
here  upon  the  ocean  I  am  under  surveillance." 

Mr.  Sabin's  eyes  followed  the  man's  forefinger.  Far 
away  across  the  ocean  he  could  see  a  dim  green  light 
almost  upon  the  horizon.  It  was  the  German  man-of-war. 

"That  is  quite  true,"  Mr.  Sabin  said.  "I  admit  that 
there  are  difficulties,  but  it  seems  to  me  that  you  have  over- 
looked the  crux  of  the  whole  matter.  I  have  offered  you 
enough  to  live  on  for  the  rest  of  your  days,  without  ever 
returning  to  Europe.  You  know  very  well  that  you  can 
step  off  this  ship  arm-in-arm  with  me  when  we  reach 

Boston,  even  though   your  man-of-war  be  alongside  the 

368 


THE  DOOMSCHEN  369 

dock.  They  could  not  touch  you — you  could  leave  your — 
pardon  me — not  too  honourable  occupation  once  and  for 
ever.  America  is  not  the  country  in  which  one  would 
choose  to  live,  but  it  has  its  resources — it  can  give  you  big 
game  and  charming  women.  I  have  lived  there  and  I 
know.  It  is  not  Europe,  but  it  is  the  next  best  thing. 
Come,  you  had  better  accept  my  terms  ! " 

The  man  had  listened  without  moving  a  muscle  of  his 
face.  There  was  something  almost  pitiable  in  its  white, 
sullen  despair.  Then  his  lips  parted. 

"Would  to  God  I  could!"  he  moaned.  "Would  to 
God  I  had  the  power  to  listen  to  you  ! " 

Mr.  Sabin  flicked  the  ash  off  his  cigarette  and  looked 
thoughtful.  He  stroked  his  grey  imperial  and  kept  his 
eyes  on  his  companion. 

"  The  extradition  laws,"  the  other  interrupted  savagely. 

Mr.  Sabin  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  By  all  means,"  he 
murmured.  "  Personally  I  have  no  interest  in  them ;  but 
if  you  would  talk  like  a  reasonable  man  and  tell  me  where 
your  difficulty  lies  I  might  be  able  to  help  you." 

The  man  who  had  called  himself  Watson  raised  his  head 
slowly.  His  expression  remained  altogether  hopeless.  He 
had  the  appearance  of  a  man  given  wholly  over  to  despair. 

"  Have  you  ever  heard  of  the  Doomschen  ? "  he  asked 
slowly. 

Mr.  Sabin  shuddered.  He  became  suddenly  very  grave. 
"  You  are  not  one  of  them  ?  "  he  exclaimed. 

The  man  bowed  his  head. 

"  I  am  one  of  those  devils,"  he  admitted. 

Mr.  Sabin  rose  to  his  feet  and  walked  up  and  down  the 
little  room. 

"  Of  course,"  he  remarked,  "  that  complicates  matters, 
but  there  ought  to  be  a  way  out  of  it.  Let  me  think  for  a 
moment." 

The  man  on  the  lounge  sat  still  with  unchanging  face. 
24 


370  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

In  his  heart  he  knew  that  there  was  no  way  out  of  it.  The 
chains  which  bound  him  were  such  as  the  hand  of  man  had 
no  power  to  destroy.  The  arm  of  his  master  was  long.  It 
had  reached  him  here — it  would  reach  him  to  the  farther- 
most corner  of  the  world.  Nor  could  Mr.  Sabin  for  the 
moment  see  any  light.  The  man  was  under  perpetual 
sentence  of  death.  There  was  no  country  in  the  world 
which  would  not  give  him  up,  if  called  upon  to  do  so. 

"What  you  have  told  me,"  Mr.  Sabin  said,  "explains,  of 
course  to  a  certain  extent,  your  present  indifference  to  my 
offers.  But  when  I  first  approached  you  in  this  way  you 
certainly  led  me  to  think 

"  That  was  before  that  cursed  Kaiser  Wilhelm  came  up," 
Watson  interrupted.  "  I  had  a  plan — I  might  have  made  a 
rush  for  liberty  at  any  rate  ! " 

"  But  surely  you  would  have  been  marked  down  at 
Boston,"  Mr.  Sabin  said. 

"The  only  friend  I  have  in  the  world,"  the  other  said 
slowly,  "  is  the  manager  of  the  Government's  Secret  Cable 
Office  at  Berlin.  He  was  on  my  side.  It  would  have 
given  me  a  chance,  but  now  " — he  looked  out  of  the  window 
— "  it  is  hopeless  !  " 

Mr.  Sabin  resumed  his  chair  and  lit  a  fresh  cigarette. 
He  had  thought  the  matter  out  and  began  to  see  light 

"  It  is  rather  an  awkward  fix,"  he  said,  "  but  '  hopeless ' 
is  a  word  which  I  do  not  understand.  As  regards  our 
present  dilemma  I  think  that  I  see  an  excellent  way  out 
of  it." 

A  momentary  ray  of  hope  flashed  across  the  man's  face. 
Then  he  shook  his  head. 

"  It  is  not  possible,"  he  murmured. 

Mr.  Sabin  smiled  quietly. 

"  My  friend,"  he  said,  "  I  perceive  that  you  are  a 
pessimist !  You  will  find  yourself  in  a  very  short  time  a 
free  man  with  the  best  of  your  life  before  you.  Take  my 


THE  DOOMSCHEN  371 

advice.  Whatever  career  you  embark  in  do  so  in  a  more 
sanguine  spirit.  Difficulties  to  the  man  who  faces  them 
boldly  lose  half  their  strength.  But  to  proceed.  You  are 
one  of  those  who  are  called  '  Doomschen.'  That  means,  I 
believe,  that  you  have  committed  a  crime  punishable  by 
death, — that  you  are  on  parole  only  so  long  as  you  remain 
in  the  service  of  the  Secret  Police  of  your  country.  That 
is  so,  is  it  not  ?  " 

The  man  assented  grimly.     Mr.  Sabin  continued — 

"  If  you  were  to  abandon  your  present  task  and  fail  to 
offer  satisfactory  explanations — if  you  were  to  attempt  to 
settle  down  in  America,  your  extradition,  I  presume,  would 
at  once  be  applied  for.  You  would  be  given  no  second 
chance." 

"I  should  be  shot  without  a  moment's  hesitation," 
Watson  admitted  grimly. 

"  Exactly ;  and  there  is,  I  believe,  another  contingency. 
If  you  should  succeed  in  your  present  enterprise,  which,  I 
presume,  is  my  extermination,  you  would  obtain  your 
freedom." 

The  man  on  the  lounge  nodded.  A  species  of  despair 
was  upon  him.  This  man  was  his  master  in  all  ways.  He 
would  be  his  master  to  the  end. 

"That  brings  us,"  Mr.  Sabin  continued,  "to  my 
proposition.  I  must  admit  that  the  details  I  have  not 
fully  thought  out  yet,  but  that  is  a  matter  of  only  half  an 
hour  or  so.  I  propose  that  you  should  kill  me  in  Boston 
Harbour  and  escape  to  your  man-of-war.  They  will,  of 
course,  refuse  to  give  you  up,  and  on  your  return  to 
Germany  you  will  receive  your  freedom." 

"But — but  you,"  Watson  exclaimed,  bewildered,  "you 
don't  want  to  be  killed,  surely  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  intend  to  be — actually,"  Mr.  Sabin  explained. 
"  Exactly  how  I  am  going  to  manage  it  I  can't  tell  you  just 
now,  but  it  will  be  quite  easy.  I  shall  be  dead  to  the 


372  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

belief  of  everybody  on  board  here  except  the  captain,  and 
he  will  be  our  accomplice.  I  shall  remain  hidden  until 
your  Kaiser  Wilhelm  has  left,  and  when  I  do  land  in 
America — it  shall  not  be  as  Mr.  Sabin." 

Watson  rose  to  his  feet.  He  was  a  transformed  man. 
A  sudden  hope  had  brightened  his  face.  His  eyes  were  on 
fire. 

"  It  is  a  wonderful  scheme  ! "  he  exclaimed.  "  But  the 
captain — surely  he  will  never  consent  to  help?" 

"On  the  contrary,"  Mr.  Sabin  answered,  "he  will  do  it 
for  the  asking.  There  is  not  a  single  difficulty  which  we 
cannot  easily  surmount." 

"There  is  my  companion,"  Watson  remarked;  "she 
will  have  to  be  reckoned  with." 

"Leave  her,"  Mr.  Sabin  said,  "to  me.  I  will  undertake 
that  she  shall  be  on  our  side  before  many  hours  are  passed. 
You  had  better  go  down  to  your  room  now.  It  is  getting 
light  and  I  want  to  rest." 

Watson  paused  upon  the  threshold.  He  pointed  in 
some  embarrassment  to  the  table  by  the  side  of  the  bed. 

"Is  it  any  use,"  he  murmured  in  a  low  tone,  "saying 
that  I  am  sorry  for  this?" 

"You  only  did — what — in  a  sense  was  your  duty,"  Mr. 
Sabin  answered.  "I  bear  no  malice— especially  since  I 
escaped." 

Watson  closed  the  door  and  Mr.  Sabin  glanced  at  the 
bed.  For  a  moment  or  two  he  hesitated,  although  the 
desire  for  sleep  had  gone  by.  Then  he  stepped  out  on  to 
the  deck  and  leaned  thoughtfully  over  the  white  railing. 
Far  away  eastwards  there  were  signs  already  of  the  coming 
day.  A  soft  grey  twilight  rested  upon  the  sea ;  darker  and 
blacker  the  waters  seemed  just  then  by  contrast  with  the 
lightening  skies.  A  fresh  breeze  was  blowing.  There  was 
no  living  thing  within  sight  save  that  faint  green  light  where 
the  rolling  sea  touched  the  clouds.  Mr.  Sabin's  eyes  grew 


THE  DOOMSCHEN  373 

fixed.  A  curious  depression  came  over  him  in  that  half  hour 
before  the  dawn  when  all  emotion  is  quickened  by  that 
intense  brooding  stillness.  He  was  passing,  he  felt,  into 
perpetual  exile.  He  who  had  been  so  intimately  in  touch 
with  the  large  things  of  the  world  had  come  to  that  point 
when  after  all  he  was  bound  to  write  his  life  down  a 
failure.  For  it's  great  desire  was  no  nearer  consummation. 
He  had  made  his  grand  effort  and  he  had  failed.  He  had 
been  very  near  success.  He  had  seen  closely  into  the 
Promised  Land.  Perhaps  it  was  such  thoughts  as  these 
which  made  his  non-success  the  more  bitter,  and  then,  with 
the  instincts  of  a  philosopher,  he  asked  himself  now, 
surrounded  in  fancy  by  the  fragments  of  his  broken  dreams, 
whether  it  had  been  worth  while.  That  love  of  the  beautiful 
and  picturesque  side  of  his  country  which  had  been  his 
first  inspiration,  which  had  been  at  the  root  of  his 
passionate  patriotism,  seemed  just  then  in  the  grey  moments 
of  his  despair  so  weak  a  thing.  He  had  sacrificed  so  much 
to  it — his  whole  life  had  been  moulded  and  shaped  to  that 
one  end.  There  had  been  other  ways  in  which  he  might 
have  found  happiness.  Was  he  growing  morbid,  he 
wondered,  bitterly  but  unresistingly,  that  her  face  should 
suddenly  float  before  his  eyes.  In  fancy  he  could  see  her 
coming  towards  him  there  across  the  still  waters,  the  old 
brilliant  smile  upon  her  lips,  the  lovelight  in  her  eyes,  that 
calm  disdain  of  all  other  men  written  so  plainly  on  the  face 
which  should  surely  have  been  a  queen's. 

Mr.  Sabin  thought  of  those  things  which  had  passed,  and 
he  thought  of  what  was  to  come,  and  a  moment  of  bitter- 
ness crept  into  his  life  which  he  knew  must  leave  its  mark 
for  ever.  His  head  drooped  into  his  hands  and  remained 
buried  there.  Thus  he  stood  until  the  first  ray  of  sunlight 
travelling  across  the  water  fell  upon  him,  and  he  knew  that 
morning  had  come.  He  crossed  the  deck,  and  entering 
his  cabin  closed  the  door. 


CHAPTER  XLIX 

MR.    SABIN    IS   SENTIMENTAL 

MR.  SABIN  found  it  a  harder  matter  than  he  had  anticipated 
to  induce  the  captain  to  consent  to  the  scheme  he  had 
formulated.  Nevertheless,  he  succeeded  in  the  end,  and 
by  lunch  time  the  following  day  the  whole  affair  was 
settled.  There  was  a  certain  amount  of  risk  in  the  affair, 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  if  successfully  carried  out,  it  set 
free  once  and  for  ever  the  two  men  mainly  concerned  in  it. 
Mr.  Sabin,  who  was  in  rather  a  curious  mood,  came  out  of 
the  captain's  room  a  little  after  one  o'clock  feeling  alto- 
gether indisposed  for  conversation  of  any  sort,  ordered  his 
luncheon  from  the  deck  steward,  and  moved  his  chair  apart 
from  the  others  into  a  sunny,  secluded  corner  of  the  boat. 

It  was  here  that  Mrs.  Watson  found  him  an  hour  later. 
He  heard  the  rustle  of  silken  draperies  across  the  deck,  a 
faint  but  familiar  perfume  suddenly  floated  into  the  salt, 
sunlit  air.  He  looked  around  to  find  her  bending  over 
him,  a  miracle  of  white — cool,  dainty,  and  elegant. 

"  And  why  this  seclusion,  Sir  Misanthrope  ?  " 

He  laughed  and  dragged  her  chair  alongside  of  his. 

"  Come  and  sit  down,"  he  said.  "  I  want  to  talk  to  you. 
I  want,"  he  added,  lowering  his  voice,  "to  thank  you  for 
your  warning." 

They  were  close  together  now  and  alone,  cut  off  from  the 

374 


MR.  SAB  IN  IS  SENTIMENTAL  375 

other  chairs  by  one  of  the  lifeboats.     She  looked  up  at  him 
from  amongst  the  cushions  with  which  her  chair  was  hung. 

"  You  understood,"  she  murmured. 

"Perfectly." 

"  You  are  safe  now,"  she  said.  "  From  him  at  any  rate. 
You  have  won  him  over." 

"I^have  found  a  way  of  safety,"  Mr.  Sabin  said,  "for 
both  of  us." 

She  leaned  her  head  upon  her  delicate  white  fingers,  and 
looked  at  him  curiously. 

"Your  plans,"  she  said,  "are  admirable;  but  what  of 
me?" 

Mr.  Sabin  regarded  her  with  some  faint  indication  of 
surprise.  He  was  not  sure  what  she  meant.  Did  she 
expect  a  reward  for  her  warning,  he  wondered.  Her  words 
would  seem  to  indicate  something  of  the  sort,  and  yet  he 
was  not  sure. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  he  said  kindly,  "  we  have  not  considered 
you  very  much  yet.  You  will  go  on  to  Boston,  of  course. 
Then  I  suppose  you  will  return  to  Germany." 

"  Never,"  she  exclaimed,  with  suppressed  passion.  "  I 
have  broken  my  vows.  I  shall  never  set  foot  in  Germany 
again.  I  broke  them  for  your  sake." 

Mr.  Sabin  looked  at  her  thoughtfully. 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  that,"  he  declared.  "  Believe 
me,  my  dear  young  lady,  I  have  seen  a  great  deal  of  such 
matters,  and  I  can  assure  you  that  the  sooner  you  break 
away  from  all  association  with  this  man  Watson  and  his 
employers  the  better." 

"  It  is  all  over,"  she  murmured.     "  I  am  a  free  woman." 

Mr.  Sabin  was  delighted  to  hear  it.  Yet  he  felt  that 
there  was  a  certain  awkwardness  between  them.  He  was 
this  woman's  debtor,  and  he  had  made  no  effort  to  dis- 
charge his  debt.  What  did  she  expect  from  him  ?  He  looked 
at  her  through  half-closed  eyes,  and  wondered. 


376  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

"  If  I  can  be  of  any  use  to  you,"  he  suggested  softly,  "  in 
any  fresh  start  you  may  make  in  life,  you  have  only  to 
command  me." 

She  kept  her  face  averted  from  him.  There  was  land  in 
sight,  and  she  seemed  much  interested  in  it. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  in  America  ?  " 

Mr.  Sabin  looked  out  across  the  sea,  and  he  repeated  her 
question  to  himself.  What  was  he  going  to  do  in  this  great, 
strange  land,  whose  ways  were  not  his  ways,  and  whose 
sympathies  lay  so  far  apart  from  his  ? 

"  I  cannot  tell,"  he  murmured.  "  I  have  come  here  for 
safety.  I  have  no  country  nor  any  friends.  This  is  the 
land  of  my  exile." 

A  soft,  white  hand  touched  his  for  a  moment.  He  looked 
into  her  face,  and  saw  there  an  emotion  which  surprised 
him. 

"  It  is  my  exile  too,"  she  said.  "  I  shall  never  dare  to 
return.  I  have  no  wish  to  return." 

"But  your  friends?"  Mr.  Sabin  commenced.  "Your 
family?" 

"  I  have  no  family." 

Mr.  Sabin  was  thoughtful  for  several  moments,  then  he 
took  out  his  case  and  lit  a  cigarette.  He  watched  the  blue 
smoke  floating  away  over  the  ship's  side,  and  looked  no 
more  at  the  woman  at  his  elbow. 

"  If  you  decide,"  he  said  quietly,  "  to  settle  in  America, 
you  must  not  allow  yourself  to  forget  that  I  am  very  much 
your  debtor.  I " 

"  Your  friendship,"  she  interrupted,  "  I  shall  be  very 
glad  to  have.  We  may  perhaps  help  one  another  to  feel 
less  lonely." 

Mr.  Sabin  gently  shook  his  head. 

"I  had  a  friend  of  your  sex  once,"  he  said.  "I  shall — 
forgive  me — never  have  another." 

"  Is  she  dead  ?  " 


MR.  SABIN  IS  SENTIMENTAL  377 

"  If  she  is  dead,  it  is  I  who  have  killed  her.  I  sacrificed 
her  to  my  ambition.  We  parted,  and  for  months — for 
years — I  scarcely  thought  of  her,  and  now  the  day  of 
retribution  has  come.  I  think  of  her,  but  it  is  in  vain. 
Great  barriers  have  rolled  between  us  since  those  days, 
but  she  was  my  first  friend,  and  she  will  be  my  only  one." 

There  was  a  long  silence.  Mr.  Sabin's  eyes  were  fixed 
steadily  seawards.  A  flood  of  recollections  had  suddenly 
taken  possession  of  him.  When  at  last  he  looked  round, 
the  chair  by  his  side  was  vacant. 


CHAPTER  L 

A    HARBOUR    TRAGEDY 

THE  voyage  of  the  Calipha  came  to  its  usual  termination 
about  ten  o'clock  on  the  following  morning,  when  she 
passed  Boston  lights  and  steamed  slowly  down  the  smooth 
waters  of  the  harbour.  The  seven  passengers  were  all  upon 
deck  in  wonderfully  transformed  guise.  Already  the  steamer 
chairs  were  being  tied  up  and  piled  away ;  the  stewards, 
officiously  anxious  to  render  some  last  service,  were 
hovering  around.  Mrs.  Watson,  in  a  plain  tailor  gown 
and  quiet  felt  hat,  was  sitting  heavily  veiled  apart  and 
alone.  There  were  no  signs  of  either  Mr.  Watson  or  Mr. 
Sabin.  The  captain  was  on  the  bridge  talking  to  the 
pilot.  Scarcely  a  hundred  yards  away  lay  the  Kaiser 
Wilhelm,  white  and  stately,  with  her  brass  work  shining 
like  gold  in  the  sunlight,  and  her  decks  as  white  as 
snow. 

The  Calipha  was  almost  at  a  standstill,  awaiting  the 
doctor's  brig,  which  was  coming  up  to  her  on  the  port 
side.  Every  one  was  leaning  over  the  railing  watching  her. 
Mr.  Watson  and  Mr.  Sabin,  who  had  just  come  up  the 
gangway  together,  turned  away  towards  the  deserted  side 
of  the  boat,  engaged  apparently  in  serious  conversation. 
Suddenly  every  one  on  deck  started.  A  revolver  shot, 
followed  by  two  heavy  splashes  in  the  water,  rang  out 

378 


A  HARBOUR  TRAGEDY  379 

clear  and  crisp  above  the  clanking  of  chains  and  slighter 
noises.  There  was  a  moment's  startled  silence — every  one 
looked  at  one  another — then  a  rush  for  the  starboard  side 
of  the  steamer.  Above  the  little  torrent  of  minor  exclama- 
tions, the  captain's  voice  sang  out  like  thunder. 

"Lower  the  number  one  boat.  Quartermaster,  man  a 
crew." 

The  seven  passengers,  two  stewards,  and  a  stray  seaman 
arrived  on  the  starboard  side  of  the  gangway  at  about  the 
same  moment.  There  was  at  first  very  little  to  be  seen. 
A  faint  cloud  of  blue  smoke  was  curling  upwards,  and 
there  was  a  strong  odour  of  gunpowder  in  the  air.  On 
the  deck  were  lying  a  small,  recently-discharged  revolver 
and  a  man's  white  linen  cap,  which,  from  it's  somewhat 
peculiar  shape,  every  one  recognised  at  once  as  belonging 
to  Mr.  Sabin.  At  first  sight,  there  was  absolutely  nothing 
else  to  be  seen.  Then,  suddenly,  some  one  pointed  to  a 
man's  head  about  fifty  yards  away  in  the  water.  Every  one 
crowded  to  the  side  to  look  at  it.  It  was  hard  at  that 
distance  to  distinguish  the  features,  but  a  little  murmur 
arose,  doubtful  at  first,  but  gaining  confidence.  It  was 
the  head  of  Mr.  Watson.  The  murmur  rather  grew  than 
increased  when  it  was  seen  that  he  was  swimming,  not 
towards  the  steamer,  but  away  from  it,  and  that  he  was 
alone.  Where  was  Mr.  Sabin  ? 

A  slight  cry  from  behind  diverted  attention  for  a  moment 
from  the  bobbing  head.  Mrs.  W'atson,  who  had  heard  the 
murmurs,  was  lying  in  a  dead  faint  across  a  chair.  One  of 
the  women  moved  to  her  side.  The  others  resumed  their 
watch  upon  events. 

A  boat  was  already  lowered.  Acting  upon  instructions 
from  the  captain,  the  crew  combined  a  search  for  the 
missing  man  with  a  leisurely  pursuit  of  the  fugitive  one. 
The  first  lieutenant  stood  up  in  the  gunwale  with  a  hook 
in  his  hand,  looking  from  right  to  left,  and  the  men  pulled 


380  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

with  slow,  even  strokes.  But  nowhere  was  there  any  sign 
of  Mr.  Sabin. 

The  man  who  was  swimming  was  now  almost  out  of 
sight,  and  the  first  lieutenant,  who  was  in  command  of  the 
little  search  party,  reluctantly  gave  orders  for  the  quickening 
of  his  men's  stroke.  But  almost  as  the  men  bent  to  their 
work,  a  curious  thing  happened.  The  fugitive,  who  had 
been  swimming  at  a  great  pace,  suddenly  threw  up  his  arms 
and  disappeared. 

"  He's  done,  by  Jove ! "  exclaimed  the  lieutenant.  "  Row 
hard,  you  chaps.  We  must  catch  him  when  he  rises." 

But  to  all  appearance,  Mr.  J.  B.  Watson,  of  New  York, 
never  rose  again.  The  boat  was  rowed  time  after  time 
around  the  spot  where  he  had  sunk,  but  not  a  trace  was  to 
be  found  of  him.  The  only  vessel  anywhere  near  was  the 
Kaiser  Wilhelm.  They  rowed  slowly  up  and  hailed  her. 

An  officer  came  to  the  railing  and  answered  their 
inquiries  in  execrable  English.  No,  they  had  not  seen 
any  one  in  the  water.  They  had  not  picked  any  one  up. 
Yes,  if  Herr  Lieutenant  pleased,  he  could  come  on  board, 
but  to  make  a  search — no,  without  authority.  No,  it  was 
impossible  that  any  one  could  have  been  taken  on  board 
without  his  knowledge.  He  pointed  down  the  steep  sides 
of  the  steamship  and  shrugged  his  shoulders.  It  was 
indeed  an  impossible  feat.  The  lieutenant  of  the  Calipha 
saluted  and  gave  the  order  to  his  men  to  backwater.  Once 
more  they  went  over  the  ground  carefully.  There  was  no 
sign  of  either  of  the  men.  After  about  three-quarters  of  an 
hour's  absence,  they  reluctantly  gave  up  the  search  and 
returned  to  the  Calipha. 

The  first  lieutenant  was  compelled  to  report  both  men 
drowned.  The  captain  was  in  earnest  conversation  with 
an  official  in  plain  dark  livery.  The  boat  of  the  harbour 
police  was  already  waiting  below.  The  whole  particulars  of 
the  affair  were  scanty  enough.  Mr.  Sabin  and  Mr.  Watson 


A  HARBOUR  TRAGEDY  381 

were  seen  to  emerge  from  the  gangway  together,  engaged 
in  animated  conversation.  They  had  at  first  turned  to  the 
left,  but  seeing  the  main  body  of  the  passengers  assembled 
there,  had  stepped  back  again  and  emerged  on  the  starboard 
side  which  was  quite  deserted.  After  then,  no  one  except 
the  captain  had  even  a  momentary  glimpse  of  them,  and 
his  was  so  brief  that  it  could  scarcely  be  called  more  than  an 
impression.  He  had  been  attracted  by  a  slight  cry,  he  believed 
from  Mr.  Sabin,  and  had  seen  both  men  struggling  together 
in  the  act  of  disappearing  in  the  water.  He  had  seen  none 
of  the  details  of  the  fight ;  he  could  not  even  say  whether 
Mr.  Sabin  or  Mr.  Watson  had  been -the  aggressor,  although 
on  that  subject  there  was  only  one  opinion.  Mrs.  Watson 
was  absolutely  overcome,  and  unable  to  answer  any  ques- 
tions, but  as  regards  the  final  quarrel  and  struggle  between 
the  two  men,  it  was  impossible  for  her  to  have  seen  any- 
thing of  it,  as  she  was  sitting  in  a  steamer  chair  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  boat.  There  was  at  present  absolutely 
no  further  light  to  be  thrown  upon  the  affair.  The  sergeant 
of  police  signalled  for  his  boat  and  went  off  to  make  his 
report.  The  Calipha  at  half-speed  steamed  slowly  for  the 
dock. 

Arrived  there  her  passengers,  crew  and  officers  became 
the  natural  and  recognised  prey  of  the  American  press-man. 
The  captain  sternly  refused  to  answer  a  single  question, 
and  in  peremptory  fashion  ordered  every  stranger  off  his 
ship.  But  nevertheless  his  edict  was  avoided  in  the 
confusion  of  landing,  and  the  Customs  House  effectually 
barred  flight  on  the  part  of  their  victims.  Somehow  or 
other,  no  one  exactly  knew  how  or  from  what  source  they 
came,  strange  rumours  began  to  float  about.  Who  was 
Mr.  J.  B.  Watson  of  New  York,  yacht  owner  and  million- 
aire? No  one  had  ever  heard  of  him,  and  he  did  not 
answer  in  the  least  to  the  description  of  any  known  Watson. 
The  closely  veiled  features  of  his  widow  were  eagerly 


3»2  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

scanned — one  by  one  the  newspaper  men  confessed  them- 
selves baffled.  No  one  had  ever  seen  her  before.  One 
man,  the  most  daring  of  them,  ventured  upon  a  timid 
question  as  she  stepped  down  the  gangway.  She  passed 
him  by  with  a  swift  look  of  contempt.  None  of  the  others 
ventured  anything  of  the  sort  —  but,  nevertheless,  they 
watched  her,  and  they  made  note  of  two  things.  The  first 
was  that  there  was  no  one  to  meet  her — the  second  that 
instead  of  driving  to  a  railway  depot,  or  wiring  to  any 
friends,  she  went  straight  to  an  hotel  and  engaged  a  room 
for  the  night. 

The  press-men  took  counsel  together,  and  agreed  that  it 
was  very  odd.  They  thought  it  odder  still  when  one  of 
their  number,  calling  at  the  hotel  later  in  the  day,  was 
informed  that  Mrs.  Watson,  after  engaging  a  room  for  the 
week,  had  suddenly  changed  her  mind,  and  had  left  Boston 
without  giving  any  one  any  idea  as  to  her  destination. 
They  took  counsel  together,  and  they  found  fresh  food  for 
sensation  in  her  flight.  She  was  the  only  person  who  could 
throw  any  light  upon  the  relations  between  the  two  men, 
and  she  had  thought  fit  to  virtually  efface  herself.  They 
made  the  most  of  her  disappearance  in  the  thick  black 
headlines  which  headed  every  column  in  the  Boston  evening 
papers. 


CHAPTER  LI 

THE   PERSISTENCE   OF   FELIX 

OF  all  unhappy  men  he  is  assuredly  the  most  unhappy  who, 
ambitious,  patient,  and  doggedly  persevering,  has  chosen 
the  moment  to  make  his  supreme  venture  and  having  made 
it  has  reaped  failure  instead  of  success.  The  gambler 
while  he  lives  may  play  again ;  the  miser,  robbed,  embark 
once  more  upon  his  furtive  task  of  hoarding  money ;  even 
the  rejected  lover  need  not  despair  of  some  day,  somewhere 
rinding  happiness,  since  no  one  heart  has  a  monopoly  of 
love.  But  to  him  who  aspires  to  shape  the  destiny  of 
nations,  to  control  the  varying  interests  of  great  powers  and 
play  upon  the  emotions  of  whole  peoples,  there  is  never 
vouchsafed  more  than  one  opportunity.  And  failure  then 
does  more  than  bring  upon  the  schemer  the  execration  of 
the  world  he  would  have  controlled  :  it  clears  eyes  into 
which  he  had  thrown  dust,  awakens  passions  he  had  lulled 
to  sleep,  provokes  hostility  where  he  had  made  false  peace, 
and  renders  for  ever  impossible  the  recombination  of  con- 
ditions under  which  alone  he  could,  if  at  all,  succeed. 
For  such  an  one  life  has  lost  all  its  savour.  Existence  may 
perhaps  be  permitted  to  him,  but  no  more  He  stakes  his 
all  upon  one  single  venture,  and,  win  or  lose,  he  has  no 
second  throw.  Failure  is  absolute,  and  spells  despair. 

In  such  unhappy  state  was  Mr.  Sabin.  More  than  ten 
days  had  passed  since  the  tragedy  in  Boston  Harbour,  and 
now  he  sat  alone  in  a  private  room  in  a  small  but  exclusive 

383 


384  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

hotel  in  New  York.  He  had  affected  no  small  change  in 
his  appearance  by  shaving  off  his  imperial  and  moustache, 
but  a  far  more  serviceable  disguise  was  provided  for  him  by 
the  extreme  pallor  of  his  face  and  the  listlessness  of  his 
every  movement.  He  had  made  the  supreme  effort  of  his 
life  and  had  failed ;  and  failure  had  so  changed  his  whole 
demeanour  that  had  any  of  his  recent  companions  on  the 
Calipha  been  unexpectedly  confronted  with  him  it  is 
doubtful  if  they  would  have  recognised  him. 

For  a  brief  space  he  had  enjoyed  some  of  the  old  zest 
of  life  in  scheming  for  the  freedom  of  his  would-be  mur- 
derer, in  outwitting  the  police  and  press-men,  and  in 
achieving  his  own  escape ;  but  with  all  this  secured,  and 
in  the  safe  seclusion  of  his  room,  he  had  leisure  to  look 
within  himself  and  found  himself  the  most  miserable  of 
men,  utterly  lonely,  with  failure  to  look  back  upon  and 
nothing  for  which  to  hope. 

He  had  dreamed  of  being  a  minister  to  France  ;  he  was 
an  exile  in  an  unsympathetic  land.  He  had  dreamed  of 
restoring  dynasties  and  readjusting  the  balance  of  power ; 
he  was  an  alien  refugee  in  a  republic  where  visionaries  are 
not  wanted  and  where  opulence  gives  control.  America 
held  nothing  for  him ;  Europe  had  no  place ;  there  was 
not  a  capital  in  the  whole  continent  where  he  could  show 
himself  and  live.  And  his  mind  dwelt  upon  the  contrast 
between  what  might  have  been  and  what  was,  he  tasted  for 
the  first  time  the  full  bitteniess  of  isolation  and  despair. 
To  his  present  plight  any  alternative  would  be  preferable  — 
even  death.  He  took  the  little  revolver  which  lay  near  him 
on  the  table  and  thoughtfully  turned  it  over  and  over  in  his 
hand.  It  was  as  it  were  a  key  with  which  he  could  unlock 
the  portal  to  another  world,  where  weariness  was  unknown, 
and  where  every  desire  was  satisfied,  or  unfelt :  and  even 
if  there  were  no  other  existence  beyond  this,  extinction  was 
not  an  idea  that  repelled  him  now.  It  would  be  an  "  acci- 


THE  PERSISTENCE  OF  FELIX  385 

dent " ;  so  easy  to  come  by ;  so  little  painful  to  endure. 
Should  he?  Should  he  not?  Should  he? 

He  was  so  engrossed  in  his  own  thoughts  that  he  did  not 
hear  the  soft  knock  at  the  door  nor  the  servant  murmuring 
the  name  of  a  visitor;  but  becoming  conscious  of  the 
presence  of  some  one  in  the  room,  he  looked  up  suddenly 
to  see  a  lady  by  his  side. 

"Is  there  not  some  mistake?"  he  said,  rising  to  his 
feet.  "  I  do  not  think  I  have  the  pleasure " 

She  laughed  and  raised  her  veil. 

"Does  it  make  so  much  difference?"  she  asked 
lightly.  "Yet,  really,  Mr.  Sabin,  you  are  more  changed 
than  I." 

"I  must  apologize,"  he  said;  "golden  hair  is  —  most 
becoming.  But  sit  down  and  tell  me  how  you  found  me 
out  and  why." 

She  sank  into  the  chair  he  brought  for  her  and  looked 
at  him  thoughtfully. 

"  It  does  not  matter  how  I  found  you,  since  I  did. 
Why  I  came  is  easily  explained.  I  have  had  a  cablegram 
from  Mr.  Watson." 

"  Good  news,  I  hope,"  he  said  politely. 

"I  suppose  it  is,"  she  answered  indifferently.  "At 
least  your  conspiracy  seems  to  have  been  successful.  It  is 
generally  believed  that  you  are  dead,  and  Mr.  Watson  has 
been  pardoned  and  reinstated  in  all  that  once  was  his. 
And  now  he  has  sent  me  this  cablegram  asking  me  to  join 
him  in  Germany  and  marry  him." 

Dejected  as  Mr.  Sabin  was  he  had  not  yet  lost  all  his 
sense  of  humour.  He  found  the  idea  excessively  amusing. 

"  Let  me  be  the  first  to  congratulate  you,"  he  said,  his 
twinkling  eyes  belying  the  grave  courtesy  of  his  voice.  "  It 
is  the  conventional  happy  end  to  a  charming  romance." 

"  Are  you  never  serious  ?  "  she  protested. 

"  Indeed,  yes,"  he  answered.     "  Forgive  me  for  seem- 


386  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

ing  to  be  flippant  about  so  serious  a  matter  as  a  proposal 
of  marriage.  I  presume  you  will  accept  it." 

"  Am  I  to  do  so?  "  she  asked  gravely.  "  It  was  to  ask 
your  advice  that  I  came  here  to-day." 

"  I  have  no  hesitation  in  giving  it,"  he  declared.  "  Ac- 
cept the  proposal  at  once.  It  means  emancipation  for 
you  —  emancipation  from  a  career  of  espionage  which  has 
nothing  to  recommend  it.  There  cannot  be  two  opinions 
on  such  a  point :  give  up  this  unwholesome  business  and 
make  this  man,  and  yourself  too,  happy.  You  will  never 
regret  it." 

"  I  wish  I  could  be  as  sure  of  that,"  she  said  wistfully. 

Mr.  Sabin,  with  his  training  and  natural  power  of  seeing 
through  the  words  to  the  heart  of  the  speaker,  could  not 
misunderstand  her,  and  he  spoke  with  a  gentle  earnestness 
very  moving. 

"  Believe  me,  my  dear  lady,  when  I  say  that  to  every  one 
once  at  least  in  his  life  there  comes  a  chance  of  happiness, 
although  every  one  is  not  wise  enough  to  take  it.  I  had 
my  chance,  and  I  threw  it  away :  there  has  never  been  an 
hour  in  my  life  since  then  that  I  have  not  regretted  it. 
Let  me  help  you  to  be  wiser  than  I  was.  I  am  an  old 
man  now ;  I  have  played  for  high  stakes  and  have  had  my 
share  of  winning;  I  have  been  involved  in  great  affairs,  I 
have  played  my  part  in  the  making  of  history.  And  I 
speak  from  experience ;  security  lies  in  middle  ways,  and 
happiness  belongs  to  the  simple  life.  To  what  has  my  in- 
terest in  things  of  high  import  brought  me?  I  am  an 
exile  from  my  country,  doomed  to  pass  the  small  remainder 
of  my  days  among  a  people  whom  I  know  not  and  with 
whom  I  have  nothing  in  common. 

"  I  have  a  heart  and  now  I  am  paying  the  penalty  for 
having  treated  badly  the  one  woman  who  had  power  to 
touch  it ;  so  bitter  a  penalty  that  I  would  I  could  save  you 
from  the  experiencing  the  like.  You  come  to  me  for 


THE  PERSISTENCE  OF  FELIX  387 

advice ;  then  be  advised  by  me.  Leave  meddling  with 
affairs  that  are  too  high  for  you.  Walk  in  those  middle 
ways  where  safety  is,  and  lead  the  simple  life  where  alone 
happiness  is.  And  let  me  part  from  you  knowing  that  to 
one  human  being  at  least  I  have  helped  to  give  what  alone 
is  worth  the  having.  Need  I  say  any  more? " 

She  took  his  hands  and  pressed  them. 

"  Goodbye,"  she  said.  "  I  shall  start  for  Germany 
to-morrow." 

***** 

So  Mr.  Sabin  was  left  free  to  return  to  his  former  melan- 
choly mood ;  but  it  was  not  long  before  fresh  interruption 
came.  A  servant  brought  a  cablegram. 

"  Be  sure  you  deliver  my  letter  to  Lenox,"  it  ran,  and 
the  signature  was  "  Felix." 

He  rolled  the  paper  into  a  little  ball  and  threw  it  on  one 
side,  and  presently  went  into  his  dressing-room  to  change  for 
dinner.  As  he  came  into  the  hall  another  servant  brought 
him  another  cablegram.  He  opened  it  and  read  — 

"  Deliver  my  letter  at  once.  —  FELIX." 

He  tore  the  paper  carefully  into  little  pieces,  and  went 
into  the  dining-room  for  dinner.  He  dined  leisurely  and 
well,  and  lingered  over  his  coffee,  lost  in  meditation.  He 
was  still  sitting  so  when  a  third  servant  brought  him  yet 
another  cablegram  — 

"  Remember  your  promise.  —  FELIX." 

Then  Mr.  Sabin  rose. 

"  Will  you  please  see  that  my  bag  is  packed,"  he  said 
to  the  waiting  man,  "  and  let  my  account  be  prepared  and 
brought  to  me  upstairs.  I  shall  leave  by  the  night  train." 


CHAPTER  LII 

MRS.  JAMES  B.  PETERSON,  OF  LENOX. 

MR.  SABIN  found  himself  late  on  the  afternoon  of  the 
following  day  alone  on  the  platform  of  a  little  wooden 
station,  watching  the  train  which  had  dropped  him  there 
a  few  minutes  ago  snorting  away  round  a  distant  curve. 
Outside,  the  servant  whom  he  had  hired  that  morning  in 
New  York  was  busy  endeavouring  to  arrange  for  a  convey- 
ance of  some  sort  in  which  they  might  complete  their 
journey.  Mr.  Sabin  himself  was  well  content  to  remain 
where  he  was.  The  primitiveness  of  the  place  itself  and 
the  magnificence  of  his  surroundings  had  made  a  distinct 
and  favourable  impression  upon  him.  Facing  him  was  a 
chain  of  lofty  hills  whose  foliage,  luxuriant  and  brilliantly 
tinted,  seemed  almost  like  a  long  wave  of  rich  deep  colour, 
the  country  close  at  hand  was  black  with  pine  trees,  through 
which  indeed  a  winding  way  for  the  railroad  seemed  tc 
have  been  hewn.  It  was  only  a  little  clearing  which  had 
been  made  for  the  depot;  a  few  yards  down,  the  line 
teemed  to  vanish  into  a  tunnel  of  black  foliage,  from 
amongst  which  the  red  barked  tree  trunks  stood  out  with 
the  regularity  of  a  regiment  of  soldiers.  The  clear  air  was 
fragrant  with  a  peculiar  and  aromatic  perfume,  so  sweet  and 
wholesome  that  Mr.  Sabin  held  the  cigarette  which  he  had 
lighted  at  arm's  length,  that  he  might  inhale  this,  the  most 


MRS.  JAMES  B.  PETERSON,  OF  LENOX         3*9 

fascinating  odour  in  the  world.  He  was  at  all  times  sensi- 
tive to  the  influence  of  scenery  and  natural  perfumes,  and 
the  possibility  of  spending  the  rest  of  his  days  in  this 
country  had  never  seemed  so  little  obnoxious  as  during 
those  few  moments.  Then  his  eyes  suddenly  fell  upon  a 
large  white  house,  magnificent,  but  evidently  newly  finished, 
gleaming  forth  from  an  opening  in  the  woods,  and  his 
brows  contracted.  His  former  moodiness  returned. 

"It  is  not  the  country,"  he  muttered  to  himself,  "it  is 
the  people." 

His  servant  came  back  presently,  with  explanations  for 
his  prolonged  absence. 

"  I  am  sorry,  sir,"  he  said,  "  but  I  made  a  mistake  in 
taking  the  tickets." 

Mr.  Sabin  merely  nodded.  A  little  time  ago  a  mistake 
on  the  part  of  a  servant  was  a  thing  which  he  would  not 
have  tolerated.  But  those  were  days  which  seemed  to  him 
to  lie  very  far  back  in  the  past. 

"  You  ought  to  have  alighted  at  the  last  station,  sir,"  the 
man  continued.  "Stockbridge  is  eleven  miles  from 
here." 

"  What  are  we  going  to  do  ?  "  Mr.  Sabin  asked. 

"We  must  drive,  sir.  I  have  hired  a  conveyance,  but 
the  luggage  will  have  to  come  later  in  the  day  by  the  cars. 
There  will  only  be  room  for  your  dressing-bag  in  the 
buggy." 

Mr.  Sabin  rose  to  his  feet. 

"  The  drive  will  be  pleasant,"  he  said,  "  especially  if  it  is 
through  such  country  as  this.  I  am  not  sure  that  I  regret 
your  mistake,  Harrison.  You  will  remain  and  bring  the 
baggage  on,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"It  will  be  best,  sir,"  the  man  agreed.  "There  is  a 
train  in  about  an  hour." 

They  walked  out  on  to  the  road  where  a  one-horse  buggy 
was  waiting.  The  driver  took  no  more  notice  of  them  than 


390  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

to  terminate,  in  a  leisurely  way,  his  conversation  with  a 
railway  porter,  and  unhitch  the  horse. 

Mr.  Sabin  took  the  seat  by  his  side,  and  they  drove  off 
It  was  a  very  beautiful  road,  and  Mr.  Sabin  was  quite 
content  to  lean  back  in  his  not  uncomfortable  seat  and 
admire  the  scenery.  For  the  most  part  it  was  of  a  luxuriant 
and  broken  character.  There  were  very  few  signs  of  agri- 
culture, save  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  large  newly- 
built  houses  which  they  passed  every  now  and  then.  At 
times  they  skirted  the  side  of  a  mountain,  and  far  below 
them  in  the  valley  the  river  Leine  wound  its  way  along  like 
a  broad  silver  band.  Here  and  there  the  road  passed 
through  a  thick  forest  of  closely-growing  pines,  and  Mr. 
Sabin,  holding  his  cigarette  away  from  him,  leaned  back 
and  took  long  draughts  of  the  rosinous,  piney  odour.  It 
was  soon  after  emerging  from  the  last  of  these  that  they 
suddenly  came  upon  a  house  which  moved  Mr.  Sabin 
almost  to  enthusiasm.  It  lay  not  far  back  from  the  road, 
a  very  long  two-storied  white  building,  free  from  the  over- 
ornamentation  which  disfigured  most  of  the  surrounding 
mansions.  White  pillars  in  front,  after  the  colonial  fashion, 
supported  a  long  sloping  veranda  roof,  and  the  smooth 
trimly-kept  lawns  stretched  almost  to  the  terrace  which 
bordered  the  piazza.  There  were  sun  blinds  of  striped 
holland  to  the  southern  windows,  and  about  the  whole 
place  there  was  an  air  of  simple  and  elegant  refinement, 
which  Mr.  Sabin  found  curiously  attractive.  He  broke  for 
the  first  time  the  silence  which  had  reigned  between  him 
and  the  driver. 

"  Do  you  know,"  he  inquired,  "  whose  house  that  is  ?  " 
The  man  flipped  his  horse's  ears  with  the  whip. 
"  I  guess  so,"  he  answered.     "  That  is  the  old  Peterson 
House.     Mrs.  James  B.  Peterson  lives  there  now." 

Mr.  Sabin  felt  in  his  breast  pocket,  and  extracted  there- 
from a  letter.     It  was  a  coincidence  undoubtedly,  but  the 


MRS.  -JAMES  B.  PETERSON,  OF  LENOX          391 

fact  was  indisputable.     The  address  scrawled  thereon  in 
Felix's  sprawling  hand  was : — 

"  MRS.  JAMES  B.  PETERSON, 

"  Lenox. 
"  By  favour  of  Mr.  Sabin." 

"  I  will  make  a  call  there,"  Mr.  Sabin  said  to  the  man. 
"  Drive  me  up  to  the  house." 

The  man  pulled  up  his  horse. 

"  What,  do  you  know  her  ?  "  he  asked. 

Mr.  Sabin  affected  to  be  deeply  interested  in  a  distant 
point  of  the  landscape.  The  man  muttered  something  to 
himself  and  turned  up  the  drive. 

"  You  have  met  her  abroad,  maybe  ?  "  he  suggested. 

Mr.  Sabin  took  absolutely  no  notice  of  the  question. 
The  man's  impertinence  was  too  small  a  thing  to  annoy 
him,  but  it  prevented  his  asking  several  questions  which 
he  would  like  to  have  had  answered.  The  man  muttered 
something  about  a  civil  answer  to  a  civil  question  not 
being  much  to  expect,  and  pulled  up  his  horse  in  front 
of  the  great  entrance  porch. 

Mr.  Sabin,  calmly  ignoring  him,  descended  and  stepped 
through  the  wide  open  door  into  a  beautiful  square  hall  in 
the  centre  of  which  was  a  billiard  table.  A  servant  attired 
in  unmistakably  English  livery,  stepped  forward  to  meet 
him. 

"  Is  Mrs.  Peterson  at  home  ?  "  Mr.  Sabin  inquired. 

"  We  expect  her  in  a  very  few  minutes,"  the  man 
answered.  "  She  is  out  riding  at  present.  May  I  inquire 
if  you  are  Mr.  Sabin,  sir  ?  " 

Mr.  Sabin  admitted  the  fact  with  some  surprise. 

The  man  received  the  intimation  with  respect. 

"Will  you  kindly  walk  this  way,  your  Grace,"  he  said. 

Mr.  Sabin  followed  him  into  a  large  and  delightfully- 
furnished  library.  Then  he  looked  keenly  at  the  servant. 


392  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIX 

"  You  know  me,"  he  remarked. 

"  Monsieur  Le  Due  Souspennier,"  the  man  answered 
with  a  bow.  "I  am  an  Englishman,  but  I  was  in  the 
service  of  the  Marquis  de  la  Merle  in  Paris  for  ten  years." 

"  Your  face,"  Mr.  Sabin  said,  "  was  familiar  to  me.  You 
look  like  a  man  to  be  trusted.  Will  you  be  so  good  as  to 
remember  that  the  Due  is  unfortunately  dead,  and  I  am 
Mr.  Sabin." 

"Most  certainly,  sir,"  the  man  answered.  "Is  there 
anything  which  I  can  bring  you  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  thank  you,"  Mr.  Sabin  answered. 

The  man  withdrew  with  a  low  bow,  and  Mr.  Sabin 
stood  for  a  few  minutes  turning  over  magazines  and  journals 
which  covered  a  large  round  table,  and  represented  the 
ephemeral  literature  of  nearly  every  country  in  Europe. 

"  Mrs.  Peterson,"  he  remarked  to  himself,  "  must  be  a 
woman  of  Catholic  tastes.  Here  is  the  Le  Petit  Journal 
inside  the  pages  of  the  English  Contemporary  Review. 

He  was  turning  the  magazines  over  with  interest,  when 
he  chanced  to  glance  through  the  great  south  window  a 
few  feet  away  from  him.  Something  he  saw  barely  a 
hundred  yards  from  the  little  iron  fence  which  bordered 
the  lawns,  attracted  his  attention.  He  rubbed  his  eyes 
and  looked  at  it  again.  He  was  puzzled,  and  was  on  the 
point  of  ringing  the  bell  when  the  man  who  had  admitted 
him  entered,  bearing  a  tray  with  liqueurs  and  cigarettes. 
Mr.  Sabin  beckoned  him  over  to  the  window. 

"  What  is  that  little  flag  ?  "  he  asked. 

"It  is  connected,  I  believe,  in  some  way,"  the  man 
answered,  "  with  a  game  of  which  Mrs.  Peterson  is  very 
fond.  I  believe  that  it  indicates  the  locality  of  a  small 
hole." 

"  Golf?  "  Mr.  Sabin  exclaimed. 

"  That  is  the  name  of  the  game,  sir,"  the  man  answered. 
"  I  had  forgotten  it  for  the  moment." 


MRS.  JAMES  B.  PETERSON,  OF  LENOX         393 

Mr.  Sabin  tried  the  window. 

"  I  want  to  get  out,"  he  said. 

The  man  opened  it. 

"  If  you  are  going  down  there,  sir,"  he  said,  "  I  will  send 
James  Green  to  meet  you.  Mrs.  Peterson  is  so  fond  of 
the  game  that  she  keeps  a  Scotchman  here  to  look  after 
the  links  and  instruct  her." 

"This,"  Mr.  Sabin  murmured,  "is  the  most  extraordinary 
thing  in  the  world." 

"  If  you  would  like  to  see  your  room,  sir,  before  you  go 
out,"  the  man  suggested,  "  it  is  quite  ready.  If  you  will 
give  me  your  keys  I  will  have  your  clothes  laid  out." 

Mr.  Sabin  turned  about  in  amazement. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  he  exclaimed.  "  I  have  not 
come  here  to  stay." 

"I  understood  so,  sir,"  the  man  answered.  "Your 
room  has  been  ready  for  three  weeks." 

Mr.  Sabin  was  bewildered.  Then  he  remembered  the 
stories  which  he  had  heard  of  American  hospitality,  and 
concluded  that  this  must  be  an  instance  of  it. 

"  I  had  not  the  slightest  intention  of  stopping  here,"  he 
said  to  the  man. 

"  Mrs.  Peterson  expected  you  to  do  so,  sir,  and  we  have 
sent  your  conveyance  away.  If  it  is  inconvenient  for  you 
to  remain  now,  it  will  be  easy  to  send  you  anywhere  you 
desire  later." 

"  For  the  immediate  present,"  Mr.  Sabin  said,  "  Mrs. 
Peterson  not  having  arrived,  I  want  to  see  that  golf 
course." 

"If  you  will  permit  me,  sir,"  the  man  said,  " I  will  show 
you  the  way." 

They  followed  a  winding  footpath  which  brought  them 
suddenly  out  on  the  border  of  a  magnificent  stretch  of 
park-like  country.  Mr.  Sabin,  whose  enthusiasms  were 
rare,  failed  wholly  to  restrain  a  little  exclamation  of 


394  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

admiration.  A  few  yards  away  was  one  of  the  largest 
and  most  magnificently  kept  putting-greens  that  he  had 
ever  seen  in  his  life.  By  his  side  was  a  raised  teeing- 
ground,  well  and  solidly  built.  Far  away  down  in  the 
valley  he  could  see  the  flag  of  the  first  hole  just  on  the 
other  side  of  a  broad  stream. 

"The  gentleman's  a  golf-player,  maybe?"  remarked  a 
voice  by  his  side,  in  familiar  dialect.  Mr.  Sabin  turned 
around  to  find  himself  confronted  by  a  long,  thin  Scotch- 
man, who  had  strolled  out  of  a  little  shed  close  at 
hand. 

"  I  am  very  fond  of  the  game,"  Mr.  Sabin  admitted. 
"  You  appear  to  me  to  have  a  magnificent  course  here." 

"  It's  none  so  bad,"  Mr.  James  Green  admitted.  "  Maybe 
the  gentleman  would  like  a  round." 

"There  is  nothing  in  this  wide  world,"  Mr.  Sabin 
answered  truthfully,  "that  I  should  like  so  well.  But  I 
have  no  clubs  or  any  shoes." 

"Come  this  way,  sir,  come  this  way,"  was  the  prompt 
reply.  "  There's  clubs  here  of  all  sorts  such  as  none  but 
Jimmy  Green  can  make,  ay,  and  shoes  too.  Mr.  Wilson,  will 
you  be  sending  me  two  boys  down  from  the  house  ?  " 

In  less  than  ten  minutes  Mr.  Sabin  was  standing  upon 
the  first  tee,  a  freshly  lit  cigarette  in  his  mouth,  and  a  new 
gleam  of  enthusiasm  in  his  eyes.  He  modestly  declined 
the  honour,  and  Mr.  Green  forthwith  drove  a  ball  which 
he  watched  approvingly. 

"  That's  no  such  a  bad  ball,"  he  remarked. 

Mr.  Sabin  watched  the  construction  of  his  tee,  and  swung 
his  club  lightly.  "  Just  a  little  sliced,  wasn't  it  ?  "  he  said. 
"That  will  do,  thanks."  He  addressed  his  ball  with  a 
confidence  which  savoured  almost  of  carelessness,  swung 
easily  back  and  drove  a  clean,  hard  hit  ball  full  seventy 
yards  further  than  the  professional.  The  man  for  a  moment 
was  speechless  with  surprise,  and  he  gave  a  little  gasp. 


MRS.  JAMES  B.  PETERSON,  OF  LENOX          395 

"  Aye,  mon,"  he  exclaimed.  "  That  was  a  fine  drive. 
Might  you  be  having  a  handicap,  sir  ?  " 

"I  am  scratch  at  three  clubs,"  Mr.  Sabin  answered 
quietly,  "and  plus  four  at  one." 

A  gleam  of  delight  mingled  with  respect  at  his  opponent, 
shone  in  the  Scotchman's  face. 

"  Aye,  but  we  will  be  having  a  fine  game,"  he  exclaimed. 
"Though  I'm  thinking  you  will  down  me.  But  it  is  grand 
good  playing  with  a  mon  again." 


The  match  was  now  at  the  fifteenth  hole.  Mr.  Sabin, 
with  a  long  and  deadly  putt — became  four  up  and  three  to 
play.  As  the  ball  trickled  into  the  hole  the  Scotchman 
drew  a  long  breath. 

"  It's  a  fine  match,"  he  said,  "  and  I'm  properly  downed. 
What's  more,  you're  holding  the  record  of  the  links  up  to 
this  present.  Fifteen  holes  for  sixty-four  is  verra  good — 
verra  good  indeed.  There's  no  man  in  America  to-day  to 
beat  it." 

And  then  Mr.  Sabin,  who  was  on  the  point  of  making  a 
genial  reply,  felt  a  sudden  and  very  rare  emotion  stir  his 
heart  and  blood,  for  almost  in  his  ears  there  had  sounded 
a  very  sweet  and  familiar  voice,  perhaps  the  voice  above  all 
others  which  he  had  least  expected  to  hear  again  in  this 
world." 

"  You  have  not  then  forgotten  your  golf,  Mr.  Sabin  ? 
What  do  you  think  of  my  little  course  ?  " 

He  turned  slowly  round  and  faced  her.  She  was  stand- 
ing on  the  rising  ground  just  above  the  putting-green,  the 
skirt  of  her  riding  habit  gathered  up  in  her  hand,  her  lithe, 
supple  figure  unchanged  by  time,  the  old  bewitching  smile 
still  playing  about  her  lips.  She  was  still  the  most  beauti- 
ful woman  he  had  ever  seen. 

Mr.  Sabin,  with  his  cap  in  his  hand,  moved  slowly  to  her 


396  MYSTERIOUS  MR.  SABIN 

side,  and  bowed  low  over  the  hand  which  she  extended  to 
him. 

"  This  is  a  happiness,"  he  murmured,  "  for  which  I  had 
never  dared  to  hope.  Are  you,  too,  an  alien  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  This,"  she  said,  "  is  the  land  of  my  adoption.  Perhaps 
you  did  not  know  that  I  am  Mrs.  Peterson  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  know  it,"  he  answered,  gravely,  "  for  I  never 
heard  of  your  marriage." 

They  turned  together  toward  the  house.  Mr.  Sabin  was 
amazed  to  find  that  the  possibilities  of  emotion  were  still  so 
great  with  him. 

"  I  married,"  she  said  softly,  "  an  American,  six  years 
ago.  He  was  the  son  of  the  minister  at  Vienna.  I  have 
lived  here  mostly  ever  since." 

"  Do  you  know  who  it  was  that  sent  me  to  you  ?  n 

She  assented  quietly. 

"  It  was  Felix." 

They  drew  nearer  the  house.  Mr.  Sabin  looked  around 
him.  "  It  is  very  beautiful  here,"  he  said. 

"It  is  very  beautiful  indeed,"  she  said,  "but  it  is  very 
lonely." 

"  Your  husband  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  He  has  been  dead  four  years." 

Mr.  Sabin  felt  a  ridiculous  return  of  that  emotion  which 
had  agitated  him  so  much  on  her  first  appearance.  He 
only  steadied  his  voice  with  an  effort. 

"  We  are  both  aliens,"  he  said  quietly.  l<  Perhaps  you 
have  heard  that  all  things  have  gone  ill  with  me.  I  am  an 
exile  and  a  failure.  I  have  come  here  to  end  my  days." 

She  flashed  a  sudden  brilliant  smile  upon  him.  How 
little  she  had  changed. 

"  Did  you  say  here  ?  "  she  murmured  softly. 

He  looked  at  her  incredulously.  Her  eyes  were  bent 
upon  the  ground.  There  was  something  in  her  face  which 


MRS.  JAMES  B.  PETERSON,  OF  LENOX         397 

made  Mr.  Sabin  forget  the  great  failure  of  his  life,  his 
broken  dreams,  his  everlasting  exile.  He  whispered  her 
name,  and  his  voice  trembled  with  a  passion  which  for 
once  was  his  master. 

"  Lucile,"  he  cried.  "  It  is  true  that  you  —  forgive 
me?" 

And  she  gave  him  her  hand.    "  It  is  true,"  she  whispered. 


THE  END. 


IN  PREPARATION 

The 

Master  Mummer 

BY 

E.  PHILLIPS  OPPENHEIM 


With  an  entirely  new  plot,  in 
which  the  elements  of  love,  in- 
trigue, and  adventure  are  ingen- 
iously blended. 


An  Ingenious  Story  of  London  Life 


ANNA 
THE    ADVENTURESS 


By  E.  PHILLIPS  OPPENHEIM 
Author  of  "  A  Prince  of  Sinners,"  etc. 
Illustrated.     320  pages.     12mo.     $1.50 

"Two  sisters,  Anna  and  Annabel,  who  look  alike,  are  the 
heroines  of  this  ingenious  novel  of  London  life.  Sir  John 
Ferringhall  marries  one,  believing  her  to  be  the  other. 
The  consequences  of  this  bold  deception  Mr.  Oppen- 
heim  has  unfolded  to  us  with  remarkable  ingenuity.  The 
story  sparkles  with  brilliant  conversation  and  strong  situ- 
ations," says  the  St.  Louis  Republic. 

An  invigorating  romance  which  carries  the  reader  along 
to  the  end  with  excitement  and  interest. — London  Daily 
Express. 

A  story  of  London  life  that  is  at  once  unusual,  original, 
consistent,  and  delightful.  —  Buffalo  Express. 

Powerful  and  captivating.  —  Liverpool  Courier. 

Mr.  Oppenheim  has  the  magic  gift  of  the  story-teller.  — 
Boston  Herald. 

An  entrancing  story  which  has  seldom  been  surpassed 
as  a  study  of  feminine  character  and  temperament.  —  The 
Outlook,  London. 


LITTLE,    BROWN,    &f    CO.,    PUBLISHERS,   BOSTON 
At  all  Booksellers' 


By  the  Author  of  "Mysterious  Mr.  Sabin  " 

A 

PEINCE  OF  SINNERS 

By  E.  PHILLIPS  OPPENHEIM.     Illustrated.     12mo.     $1.50 
Fourth  Edition 


"  A  well-compacted  and  exceedingly  interesting  story  of 
English  political  and  social  life,  making  no  demands  upon 
one's  credulity,  but  satisfying  the  requirements  in  the  way 
of  a  thoroughly  good  novel.  The  characters  are  all  drawn 
with  real  fidelity  to  life,"  is  the  manner  in  which  Harry 
Thurston  Peck,  editor  of  The  Bookman,  describes  what  is 
generally  considered  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim's  best  novel 
of  1903. 

"  Mr.  Oppenheim  really  got  ahead  of  Mr.  Joseph  Cham- 
berlain in  attempting  to  show,  through  the  vehicle  of  fic- 
tion, that  the  salvation  of  the  English  workingman  is 
dependent  upon  the  restoration  of  a  protective  tariff  in  his 
country,"  says  the  Boston  Herald. 

Lord  Arranmore  is  a  character  that  would  have  thrown 
no  discredit  upon  a  Thackeray  or  a  George  Eliot,  and 
more  than  once  we  are  reminded  of  Goethe's  Mephistoph- 
eles.  Mr.  Oppenheim  has  written  an  ingenious,  edifying, 
and  extremely  interesting  story.  It  is  the  best  he  has  yet 
produced.  —  Chicago  Record-Herald. 

Unquestionably  one  of  the  very  best  volumes  of  fiction 
of  the  year.  —  B.  0.  FLOWER,  Editor  of  The  Arena. 


LITTLE,  BROWN,  &r  CO.,  PUBLISHERS 
BOSTON,  MASS. 


A  Romance  of  Modern  Arctic  Exploration 


THE 

PRINCESS  THOEA 


By  HARRIS  BURLAND 
Illustrated  by  Cyrus  Cuneo.     360  pages.     12mo.     $1.50. 

GIVING  a  bold  imagination  free  rein,  Mr.  Borland  has 
peopled  the  frozen  North  with  romance  and  Norman 
French,  and  equipped  in  England  an  expedition  to  restore 
to  the  throne  of  his  imagined  country  a  beautiful,  exiled 
Princess.  — New  York  Times. 

From  the  very  start  the  author  gives  us  new  scenes  and 
new  characters. — Philadelphia  Inquirer. 

One  of  the  most  thoroughly  absorbing  novels  of  adven- 
ture ever  written. —  Baltimore  Herald. 

A  love  story  of  intense  power,  and  its  weird  setting 
compels  interest  from  the  beginning  to  the  surprising 
end.  —  Washington  Star. 

In  this  ingenious  novel  are  combined  more  kinds  of  enter- 
tainment than  often,  one  might  almost  say  ever,  fall  to  the 
lot  of  one  book.  Not  only  is  there  constant  action,  but 
there  is  ever  something  just  ahead  that  you  want  to  know 
about.  Mr.  Burland  keeps  you  tense  up  to  the  very  end 
and  then  surprises  you. —  Literary  World,  Boston. 

A  grateful  addition  to  the  realm  of  pure,  bright  ro- 
mance.—  New  York  World. 


LITTLE,  BROWN,  &  CO.,  PUBLISHERS,  BOSTON 
At  all  Booksellers' 


A  Romance  of  Early  Michigan 


THE  WOLVERINE 


By  ALBERT  LATHROP  LAWRENCE 
Illustrated  by  Arthur  E.  Becher.     341  pages.     12mo.     $1.50. 

N  uncommonly  vivid  and  well-sustained  story  of 
pioneer  days  in  Michigan  when  disputes  over  the 
Ohio  boundary  line  led  to  more  than  one  turbulent  outbreak 
on  the  part  of  the  early  French  settlers.  The  atmosphere 
of  these  primitive  times  affords  a  picturesque  background 
for  a  dainty  and  thoroughly  human  love  story.  Perry 
North,  a  young  surveyor,  loses  his  heart  to  Marie  Beau- 
couer,  a  French  Catholic  girl,  whom  the  author  succeeds  in 
representing  fully  as  charming  as  he  asserts  her  to  be.  It 
is  a  good  story,  bravely  told,  and  makes  one  wish  that 
there  were  more  of  the  same  kind. —  New  York  Globe. 

Marie  is  a  captivating  girl,  and  the  story  is  well  told ; 
we  wish  there  were  more  like  it. — Boston  Advertiser. 

The  capture  of  Marie  by  the  negroes  and  her  rescue  by 
North  thrill  the  reader  first  with  indignation,  then  with 
admiration.  —  Neioark  Advertiser. 

A  wholesome,  pretty  love  story. —  Chicago  Evening  Post. 

Refreshing,  picturesque,  absorbing.  —  Pittsburg  Times. 

Vivid  and  entertaining  as  Thackeray's  stories  are  through 
their  obvious  humanity  and  sense  of  proportion,  Mr.  Law- 
rence possesses  the  secret  of  the  story-teller's  charm. — Min- 
neapolis Times. 


LITTLE,  BROWN,  &  CO.,  PUBLISHERS,  BOSTON 
At  all  Booksellers' 


UCSB 

XTHVl 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  652  087     8 


